


Like Love

by TheMewsAtTen



Category: The Halcyon (TV)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Anxiety, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, References to Period Typical Homophobia, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-02-02 11:21:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12725664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMewsAtTen/pseuds/TheMewsAtTen
Summary: The world of The Halcyon and its characters is not mine, no infringement of copyright is intended and no money being made. Just fun being had.For avoidance of doubt, I've decided that Mr D'Abberville just doesn't happen here. Because, well, I like the idea of Mr D'Abberville not happening.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The world of The Halcyon and its characters is not mine, no infringement of copyright is intended and no money being made. Just fun being had.
> 
> For avoidance of doubt, I've decided that Mr D'Abberville just doesn't happen here. Because, well, I like the idea of Mr D'Abberville not happening.

Adil tugged self-consciously at the collar of his shirt. The urge to fidget was irresistible, and he was trying, and failing, to ignore the heat in his cheeks and the racing of his pulse. He had to get out from behind the bar. Just for a moment. Just long enough to . . . compose himself.  
  
Across the room, Toby caught his gaze and held it, raising his eyebrows suggestively, the corner of his mouth twitching into a wry smile as he lifted a champagne saucer to his full, pink lips . . .  
  
_Damn him_ , Adil groaned internally, his breathing laboured and his cheeks flushing redder by the second. _He knows he’s getting to me._  
  
Adil had to admit that the argument they had had two days earlier seemed like something out of nothing now, but both he and Toby had stubbornly avoided speaking since it had happened. Toby had been short-tempered and distracted for days, and when Adil had tried one time too many to find out what was bothering him, he had shouted, telling him to "stop fussing, for Christ's sake", and Adil had walked out, exasperated and hurt. It was a silly thing. Just a squabble, really. But it felt like the tension between them was at fever pitch, and he couldn’t quite fathom how the other people around them seemed so blissfully unaware of it all.  
  
He was sure Toby hadn’t taken his eyes off him all night. He’d been looking at him with _that_ look - the look that made Adil’s stomach flip and his knees go weak, that made him feel naked, stripped bare, in thrall to Toby. It was a brooding, dark look, and it made Adil’s skin prickle with excitement, reminding him that Toby was no longer quite the naive innocent he had been when they had first kissed.  
  
Hard to credit that that had happened just weeks ago.  
  
In fact, much to Adil’s fascination, Toby had quickly turned out to be, well, rather _suggestive_. He still had those distinctly straightlaced moments of bashfulness that had first appealed to Adil and still drove him wild. But, more and more, he had been revealing something of a talent for being explicit about what he liked.  
  
Toby Hamilton, it turned out, could be quite good at _talking_.  
  
Adil silently rebuked himself. He absolutely could _not_ afford to be thinking about that right now. He needed to _not_ be thinking about Toby’s bedroom mouth. His bedroom eyes. When they were alone together, these were the things that made Adil dizzy with anticipation. Here, in a room full to the rafters with people and Toby so very far away in so many ways, they were nothing less than a form of torture.  
  
When a lull in service finally gave Adil the opportunity he needed to slip out through the back bar, he wound his way into one of the basement corridors which were largely unused apart from serving as a place to ‘store’ the kind of sundry things for which there just never seemed to be a proper place anywhere else in the hotel. It was dark and dusty and untidy, but it would at least afford him a quiet place where he could regroup for a few moments and calm his nerves. Very few people ever came here and besides, those who would perhaps have rare occasion to find themselves here were all really far too busy to decide to stroll in right now.  
  
The sound of Betsey crooning onstage was much quieter here, the band a throbbing bass, the cacophony of the bar that made it hectic and even overwhelming when you were there in amongst it all suddenly a lot more reassuring, almost soothing from this distance. Like being underwater.  
  
Allowing the muted hubbub to wash over him, Adil braced his forehead and the palms of his hands against the cool brick of the wall, breathing deeply, in and out, studiously trying not to think of Toby, and particularly not of the way he had been looking at him all evening. He calmed a little as the barely concealable hardness in his trousers began to subside, the thumping of his heart gradually slowing.  
  
His ease was suddenly shattered when he felt a warm body pressed against his back, the unmistakeable smell of spice and cigarette smoke hugging him familiarly.  
  
Adil felt hot, wet lips grazing his left ear.  
  
“I want you in my bed,” Toby growled. “The sight of you has been tormenting me all evening. I can’t stop thinking about your body under that uniform. I want you, naked, in my bed.”  
  
Adil couldn’t help it. Strung-out and wary as he was - not to mention reluctant to let Toby off too easily with losing his temper the other day - his resolve weakened in spite of his will, and his attempts to fight his arousal were in tatters in an instant. He sighed raggedly and grinned at the sound of that voice, deep and honey smooth. Toby flicked his tongue over the sensitive skin below Adil’s earlobe, laving the back of his neck with kisses that felt nothing short of debauched.  
  
“Toby, you know you shouldn’t be here . . . _oh, God help me_ . . . you can’t say that kind of thing here,” Adil breathed falteringly under Toby’s touch.  
  
“And _you_ know no-one can see us. No-one can hear us. We both know you think about it. Like I think about it. It won’t leave me alone for a second because I can’t stop wanting you. We both know you think about me having you against that bar. Because I _want_ you. Because you’re _mine_. Tell me I’m wrong, Adil. Tell me you don’t think about me giving you orders where we could be seen. Telling you . . . to get . . . on . . . your . . . knees.” Toby punctuated his words with more wet, toothy kisses to Adil’s neck, his fingertips dancing over his hips.  
  
“You know I do,” whined Adil, “Jesus, Toby, the way you’ve been looking at me tonight.”  
  
Toby hummed coyly. “And how _have_ I been looking at you?”  
  
“You know what I mean. Like you’re going to eat me alive.”  
  
“Hmmm . . . I can’t concentrate on anything those wretched dullards are saying out there. Not when you’re there, so close, so beautiful and so close . . .” Toby cupped Adil’s arse gently, drawing a sharp intake of breath in response as Adil spun around to face him, burying his nose in the crook of Toby’s neck, taking a moment to breath that warm, heady scent deep into his chest. Adil always felt drunk on the smell of Toby, so inviting and masculine. So nakedly, undeniably _Toby._  
  
“God Adil, I . . . I’m losing my mind over you.”  
  
“You really shouldn’t be here, Toby. I can’t . . .”  
  
Toby looked straight into Adil’s eyes. “You can’t what?” he asked with a wicked grin.  
  
Adil schooled his features into seriousness. “Toby, if you don’t leave soon I’m going to do something really risky.”  
  
Toby exhaled shakily, running a thumb across Adil’s cheekbone. “You’re beautiful like this. All hot and bothered. You’re always beautiful, but this . . . please come to me tonight. I need you. I need you so much.”  
  
“So you can have your wicked way with me?” Adil asked with a smirk, feigning suspicion.  
  
“If you want me to promise to be a perfect gentleman, I will,” said Toby earnestly.  
  
Adil chuckled, tracing Toby's bottom lip with his fingers. “You’re a dreadful liar, Toby. And I can think of _far_ better uses for this lovely mouth of yours than making promises you know you won’t keep . . .”  
  
Toby grinned before capturing Adil in a hungry kiss.  
  
“And anyway,” added Adil flippantly, moving his lips from Toby’s, only just far enough to form a whisper, “I’m not coming if you’re going to be a perfect gentleman.”  
  
“Well . . . in that case, I promise to be a complete cad,” Toby mouthed gently against Adil’s lips before stalking away, leaving Adil trembling, slumped bonelessly against the wall behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Toby was seething with himself.

_Damn fool. Damn fool even to be thinking it, much less giving in to it. It’s too soon. If you say it now he’ll run for the hills and who could blame him? Stop it or you’ve lost this. Lost him. And all that inevitable hurt you’re trying to save yourself from will take you down with it all the sooner. He already sees you as inexperienced. Pathetic._

Toby had tried very hard not to fall in love with Adil. He had convinced himself that this would prove to be an exciting experimentation and nothing more. For both of them. 

But it had happened breathtakingly quickly, so much so that he had genuinely doubted his feelings for some time; doubted that, so early on, they could possibly be anything more than the thrill of lust. 

He had nursed his doubts. Stoked and tended them. They were a security, a reassurance. After all, the brutal truth was that he knew he would lose his last scrap of control over this situation the moment he let himself fall in love. Having only just wrested some small portion of power over his own life with the death of his father, Toby felt true terror at the prospect of surrendering even a bit of it to someone else now. 

But he had come to realise, with all the irritation of the academic he was, that he had miscalculated. He had reckoned without the fact that one doesn’t ‘let’ oneself fall in love anyway. It had happened quite in spite of his will. In spite of the fear that kept him awake, watching in silent awe as Adil lay asleep beside him some nights.

He had fallen hard and fast, had opened himself to Adil, making himself vulnerable. And so Toby concluded that the only control he really had left was in not admitting he’d lost it - in not coming on too strong too quickly, grasping at his independence by concealing the depth of his feelings, keeping Adil convinced of his casualness and not wearing his heart on his sleeve. If pain was the unavoidable price of this feeling (and Toby just knew this would end in heartbreak) he could at least delay it this way. _Saying_ it would make it true, would bring it to life in a new way. And Toby couldn’t shake the feeling that speaking the truth of it would break the spell. That it would mark the beginning of the end for this precious thing he had found. He had been sailing very close to the wind lately, and when he had been speaking to Adil earlier tonight he had only just caught himself before the words had come tumbling unthinkingly out of his mouth. Love had already caught him off guard. He wouldn’t be caught out like that again by admitting to it.

As for Adil, there could be little real doubt that he was enjoying their physical connection. Toby could even believe that perhaps Adil enjoyed his company sometimes. But beyond that . . . well, Toby didn’t dare presume anything beyond that. He was a clumsy, uninteresting second son in a world where the first son held all the cards. An over-thinker and a worrier who drank and smoked far too much. He hardly had much to appeal to a handsome, unattached, self-sufficient, composed, competent man like Adil. 

After speaking to him earlier, Toby had made his excuses to his mother's guests as soon as he could and retired to his rooms. He had taken a long bath, where he had, once again, thought himself into a nervous wreck before eventually getting out and throwing his dressing gown on over bare skin only when the cold had started to become intolerable. 

He had been lying on his bed since then, trying to read, but finding himself quite unable to concentrate. At least it seemed Adil had gone some way to forgiving him for snapping the other day. Toby knew he was dreadful at concealing when he was upset or when he was panicking.

Adil had meant well when he had asked what was bothering him. But knowing he couldn’t possibly tell him that he was preoccupied with doubts about the two of them, speculations about Adil’s _feelings,_ just added to the frustration he already felt. It was just too dangerous a topic to risk broaching. Quite possibly dangerous enough to turn the most special, earth-shattering thing that had ever happened to him sour. He wouldn’t let that happen. He was not about to let his own emotional fragility destroy _this_. 

Anything else. Not this.

His head was beginning to throb, and his incessant thoughts were leading him in what felt like a hundred different directions, each with a catastrophe awaiting him at its destination.

Toby started as he heard a tap at the door. He jumped up from the bed and crossed the room to open it, pulling Adil unceremoniously inside and closing and locking the door in one fluid movement.

Toby backed Adil roughly against the wall, practically inhaling him in a kiss, determined to shut out the worry and self-doubt. To stop time, just for a little while. To immerse himself in Adil. In skin and tongues and sweat.

“You . . . are bloody impossible, Toby Hamilton,” Adil ground out between Toby’s frantic kisses. As their gazes locked, Toby was met with a look that was nothing short of obscene, before Adil began to press his lips to his collarbone, muttering as he went. “You’re taking risks, Toby. The way you were looking at me tonight . . . following me into that corridor. God . . . the things you can do to my body . . . the things . . . you can do without even touching me . . .”

“I need you. I need you. Right now,” breathed Toby as he hurriedly began to remove Adil's bow tie, jacket and shirt, dropping to his knees to remove his shoes and socks and setting them aside before looking up into Adil’s eyes, winking with a grin as he gently mouthed at the erection straining against the fabric of his trousers. 

Being on his knees in front of Adil felt ridiculously filthy. The sense of submission was intoxicating, and Toby thought for a moment how absurd it was that he’d never done it before now. And as he released Adil’s cock and took it into the back of his throat, he thought he could quite easily come untouched just listening to the sounds coming from Adil’s mouth.

“Jesus, Toby, that’s . . . God that mouth is brilliant,” Adil whined, stroking Toby’s mussed hair from his face. Toby knew Adil liked to _watch_ him do this, could never resist staring, rapt, as Toby licked and sucked, taking his length greedily. “I have been thinking about that mouth all evening. All . . . _ah!_ . . . evening.”

Toby could feel the light dressing gown he had thrown on when he got out of the bath beginning to fall away from his waist and shoulders, and an involuntary moan dragged up into his throat as he felt Adil’s hands reach down to reveal the bare skin of his chest. 

“Stand for me, Toby,” commanded Adil.

Toby stood, and Adil slowly removed the gown from his body, throwing it aside, revealing his nakedness. “Look at you,” Adil sighed with a sweet smile, “there’s nothing about you that isn’t beautiful.”

Toby could feel himself blush, several self-deprecating protestations springing immediately to mind. Adil said things like that a lot. _Sweet nothings,_ thought Toby sadly. _Very sweet nothings._  

He bit down on the retorts, determining instead simply to bask in the feeling of being desired. _Wanted._

Adil shucked his trousers and underwear to reveal himself to Toby. They stood, their breathing shallow as hands roamed gently over nakedness, revelling for a moment in the purity of being bared to each other. Toby’s pale fingers glanced over warm, taut, bronze skin, marvelling at the contrast, the way the low light played over their entwined bodies. Adil hummed contentedly at the contact.

“Make love to me, Toby. Take me to bed and make love to me,” Adil pleaded weakly.

 _We do that,_ thought Toby suddenly. _The ‘fucking’ that men talk about together, that’s not us, doesn’t feel like us. We make love. We make it feel so much like love._

Toby took Adil’s hand and led him to the bed, laying him down tenderly, pressing gentle, messy kisses to every plane of skin he could reach. 

He knew Adil preferred it like this. On his back, Toby inside him, so that they could see each other. There seemed to be something about looking into Toby’s eyes that excited Adil, that electrified every move he made when they were together. It had taken Toby a few slightly awkward evenings to push past his own shyness, to reach a point where he too could let go enough to see why Adil liked looking so much. The first time he had seen Adil’s face as he had stroked himself to the rhythm of Toby’s thrusts, his release coating his chest and stomach, his head thrown back in a silent scream, Toby had experienced a climax so intense he could almost have believed it would never end. 

Toby reached into his drawer, then began preparing Adil’s body, focusing on his face and his breathing and the way he moved. Toby loved this part of it; slowing everything down, paying attention in a way that felt like worship. Until he met Adil, Toby had never even considered that he may be able to make another person’s body respond to him so willingly. So . . . meltingly. Toby’s self-realisation, his own young awakening, had been a cruel lesson in shame and embarrassment and disgust for so long that there had been barriers between him and Adil at first. It was Adil’s composure, his patience, that had brought those barriers down. 

Adil was soon bucking into Toby’s ministrations, biting down on his lip to keep quiet. “Show me why you wanted me naked in your bed. Show me, Toby. Show me . . .”

Toby lifted Adil slightly, hooking his slender legs around his own hips, lined himself up and pressed himself slowly but persistently past the slight, distinct resistance still offered by Adil’s body. It took all of Toby’s self-restraint not to force things; not to cave in to the urge to pound into Adil until they were both completely spent and thoroughly incoherent. 

“God Toby . . . I love having your cock inside me. It’s perfect, you have no idea how much I . . . live for the feeling of being stretched open by you.”

_Oh God._

“You look amazing taking it like this, Adil. Taking it so deep, so tight. I want you to be able to feel me when you look over at me across the bar tomorrow. I want you to feel _this_ . . . to know that it’s yours. All yours.”

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

“Can’t think of anything but you anymore . . . don’t even want to think of anything . . . Toby . . . Toby.”

_I love it when you say my name. I love you._

After a few more minutes of deep thrusts into Adil’s tight heat, Toby squeezed his eyes shut, moaning as he snapped his hips forwards again and again, feeling his release beginning to build; a coiling, licking fire in his stomach. And through the frenzy of pleasure he heard himself breathe it out. Helplessly, practically a sob - “I love you.”

Toby’s eyes snapped open in realisation as he stared horror-struck at Adil. 

Adil looked back at him and gulped, his gaze wide and his body unmoving beneath Toby’s.


	3. Chapter 3

For the briefest of moments, Adil was torn between the feeling of his heart bursting with joy and utter disbelief.

_I imagined it. He didn’t say it. I must have imagined it._

But the look of mortification on Toby’s face made it clear. It hadn’t been fantasy on Adil’s part. And any joy he had been feeling was stunned out of him as Toby practically leapt away, moving to sit at the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. 

“Toby? Toby, what’s wrong?” 

“I’m so sorry, Adil, I shouldn't have said that, I’ve ruined this haven’t I?” Toby panted, pulling at his hair.

“Toby, w-. . . “

“It just . . . slipped out, I wasn’t thinking.”

“Toby, what? Why are you . . .  why are you panicking? What’s the problem?”

“Oh God. Oh . . . _bloody_ hell!” Toby growled angrily.

Adil shifted towards him, lifting a tentative hand, about to rest it on his arm before he thought better of it. It was always a gamble with Toby. Sometimes being held was exactly what he needed when he suffered panic like this. Sometimes not. Sometimes, he needed space. Adil got the feeling that he needed to let Toby get this out, whatever it was.

“OK, Toby, it’s OK. But, Toby please look at me. I need you to look at me for a second,” he coaxed.

Toby turned red-rimmed eyes to him, his face pale with something that looked distinctly like shock. 

“Toby, all this because . . . is this because you said you _love_ me?” 

Toby groaned, his hands clamped over his face. Adil placed his own palms over them, prising them away. Toby resisted half-heartedly.

“Toby, Toby, take your hands away from your face and look at me. Toby, _I love you too_ ,” said Adil incredulously, “I honestly . . . I thought you _knew_ that.”

“No!” Toby protested sharply, “no, you don’t, I know you don’t and that’s fine, I mean, naturally, of course, obviously it’s fine. There’s no need . . . you don’t _love_ me.” He puffed out a short laugh, too breezy to be genuine. “I don’t expect you to say that just because I . . . please just pretend I never said anything. It . . . look it really just slipped out in . . . in the heat of the moment. Can we forget about it?”

“Yes. OK. OK. Of course we can. If you’re prepared to look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t mean it, we’ll forget about it. Look me in the eye, and tell me you didn’t mean it. It’s OK if you didn’t, Toby. It’s _really_ OK. But . . . I need to know.”

“Adil, let’s . . .  let’s not go down this road. Let’s stop this now, before it gets out of hand.” 

“ _Out of hand_?!” Adil’s own laugh sounded strangely bitter to his own ears. “Jesus, Toby. You . . . it’s already . . . OK. Listen. I can see you’re worrying here, but I have something I need to say and I need to know you’re _hearing_ it, OK?”

Toby nodded, almost imperceptibly.

“Thank you. Toby, the last thing I want is to put pressure on you, and I really, _really_ don’t want to make you panic any more than you are, but I need to say this and I need you to listen.” Adil took a full, deep breath. “I have loved you since before I kissed you, that first time. _Think_ about it. Why else would I have been so bloody reckless? I did it because I _loved_ you. Do you really think I would ever have put everything on the line otherwise, for some crush, a dalliance?! I’m not _stupid_. I just . . . I couldn’t help it. I had to try to show you how much . . . I loved you then, I love you now. I won’t stop. It’s forever. For me, it’s forever _. I am going to love you until I die._ I want you to know that. You’re the best decision I ever made, Toby. And . . . well, perhaps you love me. Perhaps you don’t. Perhaps one day you will. Perhaps never. But I’m not going to give up on the best thing that’s ever happened to me . . . look, I’m not going away until you _tell_ me to. _You’re_ in control here. So, just look me in the eye, say you didn’t mean it and I _promise_ you we won’t talk about this again, until you’re ready, however long that takes. But you’ve been irritable and preoccupied lately and I’m beginning to think it might have been about this, so I think you need to hear this, and it would help me to know where _I_ stand right now, because if this is just because you’re scared . . . “ Adil heaved another sigh. He couldn’t allow his own panic to win the day. Not right now. “Toby, did you mean it?”

Toby was staring speechlessly at Adil, the silence stretching out oppressively before he finally spoke, “Christ, I’m the stupidest, luckiest fool who ever lived, aren’t I?”

“Toby . . .”

“I’m sorry. I have handled this like a perfect ass. I waited too long, you see. To stop myself from falling in love with you. I waited too long. I thought I could control it. Protect you. Protect _me_. I can’t do any of that because the fact is that I’m already in love with you. I love you, Adil,” Toby cried weakly, tears rolling down his pale cheeks, “I love you. And I _was_ scared. I’m a bloody coward and I’m scared.” 

Toby’s shoulders began to shake with sobs, and Adil folded him into a vicelike hug, stroking his face and kissing his forehead tenderly. 

“Toby, Toby, oh my Toby, breathe now. I know you’re scared, love, I know. It’s not cowardly. I understand. Shhh. I’m here. Stop thinking and just _feel_ for a minute. Feel _this_ \- feel my arms around you. Holding you. You love me and I love you. _So_ much. We’re fine. We’re going to learn together, you and me, just like we’ve been learning everything else together up to now. We’ll learn how to make this work. Together. I’m here. I made a mistake, Toby. I should have told you. I should have told you how I felt every day. I should have been honest with you. But I was scared too, and instead you had to _wonder_ how I felt, and it was hurting you, wasn’t it? Making you think there was something wrong with the way _you_ were feeling. God, I’m going to say it every single day until the day you ask me to stop . . .”

“It’s not your fault, Adil. It’s just . . . it’s never going to be simple, is it? It’ll probably never even be _safe_ for us. There are so many ways it can end horribly. And this - this was the conversation I _dreamed_ about. And the one I _dreaded_. I dreamed of hearing you say you love me. Dreading what it meant. Dreaded admitting that I’ve fallen in love with you. That you can hurt me, that I can hurt you. It’s out of my hands now. Now it’s happened and I feel like I’ve . . . condemned us both somehow.”

“Toby, you’re brilliant. So brilliant. But you really do think too much.” Adil smiled broadly. “It will sometimes be complicated. Maybe always risky. If that’s the way I get to be with you then I’ll be happy. And besides, _nothing_ is simple or safe right now. Not for _anyone_. I don’t need you to give me the whole world, Toby. If I have you I’ve already got what I want. And as for protecting me, don't assume that I didn’t know what I was getting into when I kissed you. I knew. And I knew it was worth it. It’s worth everything.”

“I don’t know why you want me, Adil. I don’t know how _any_ of this has happened. It’s out of control. But I’m glad you _do_ want me,” said Toby heavily, “I love everything about you. It’s why I can’t stop looking at you all the damn time. I adore you so much, and it leaves me feeling desperately afraid. Of losing you. Of knowing how this feels and losing you and knowing the absolute _perfection_ of what I’ve lost. I feel . . . saved by you somehow. I can’t remember anything but loneliness and bleakness before. It’s more than I can take sometimes. Well, I’m done for. Completely at your mercy.”

“You promise? Because that really sounds quite . . . _appealing_ ,” whispered Adil, trailing kisses down towards Toby’s neck. “I love you” . . . _kiss . . ._ “I love you” . . . _kiss . . ._ “I love you” . . . _kiss . . ._

Adil eased Toby back into a lying position on the bed, touching the lightest of kisses and brushes of fingertips over his skin until he felt his heartbeat rest and his breathing slow.

When Adil eventually spoke again, his voice sounded sleepy and languid. “Now, my love, do you need some space tonight?”

“No!” Toby’s eyes flew open and he gazed at Adil pleadingly. “No, please don’t leave, I need you with me. I need you with me.”

As Toby begged he pulled Adil on top of him, their growing arousal becoming harder to ignore. Adil couldn’t resist a satisfied smirk at the feeling of Toby’s heartbeat beginning to speed up again, in excitement this time, drumming pleasingly against Adil's own chest as he pressed it to Toby’s.

“Mmm,” Adil purred contentedly, “can I perhaps tempt you to finish what you started so very, _very_ well earlier?”

Toby canted his hips upwards in response, grinding against Adil’s cock.

“Adil . . . I want . . . I think . . . oh, God . . .” Toby broke off in frustration.

“Toby, after everything we’ve shared tonight I hope you know you can talk to me. That you don’t have to be embarrassed or anything.”

“No, I’m not embarrassed. Not at all. I’m more . . . nervous?”

“OK . . . well, don’t be. Talk to me.”

“I know I’m usually the one who . . . Adil, I want you to . . . I want to try . . . I want _you_ inside _me_ this time. I want you to _take_ me. I want to feel how that feels.”

Adil forced himself not to groan out loud at the thought of being inside Toby. But even though he had been silently hoping Toby would eventually feel ready to suggest it, he had to wonder how wise it was under such emotional circumstances. He had to remind himself that Toby didn’t always make the best decisions when he was emotional.

“God I would _love_ that. You have no idea how much. But, well . . . it’s _new_ , Toby. It’s different for you. For me too . . . I’ve never done it that way. Are you sure you’re ready? Just because you’ve decided it’s something you might like, doesn’t mean it has to be now. You’ve had an . . . intense evening. It doesn’t have to be tonight.”

“Well, tonight _does_ seem to be rather given over to my springing things on you . . .” Toby laughed anxiously. “Look, I’m sorry. You must be feeling overwhelmed too. If you’d rather not, if you’d rather wait . . .”

“Toby I want to. I _really_ want to. I just want to be sure _you_ do too. That’s all this is about.”

“I have been thinking about it. For a while. Making love to you that way makes me feel better than I ever thought it was possible to feel. I want to give you that, if I can. If I can make it so that you can feel even a little of the pleasure I feel when I’m . . .” Toby broke away, looking suddenly uncomfortable.

“This has to be what _you_ want, Toby. What _you_ want. For _you_. Not just something you’re doing to make me happy.”

“Well, that’s the other thing. You . . . seem to really enjoy it when I do it to you . . .” Toby smiled shyly, blushing, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. 

 _Jesus Christ I love it when he does that,_ Adil thought wickedly. 

“I think we can probably agree that’s an understatement,” Adil grinned. “But you’ll need to be patient with yourself, and with me too. Completely prepared, completely comfortable, and you need to trust me. You need to focus on _that_ and not on _me_ , and not on getting everything right all the time. And I know we already know . . . what to do, what to expect, how it can go wrong or right . . . I suppose I’m just anxious about hurting you. I _hate_ the thought of hurting you . . .” he whispered, kissing the corner of Toby’s mouth.

“Do I hurt you when we . . . ?” Toby blurted, his face lined with concern.

“No. But you’re . . . you’re really good at it, Toby. I mean, _really_ good. And I . . . might not be. The first time took some getting used to, yes. But it’s a different _kind_ of pain. Not pain at all, really. It’s an intense feeling. Then it’s, well, delicious. Addictive.” Adil smirked, feeling himself becoming harder just thinking about that feeling of stretch; the ache of being taken by the man he was so in love with.

“Adil?”

“Hmm?” 

“I love you, so much. If you’re ready, I’d like this. It’s what I want.”

Adil smiled nervously. “We’re going to do this slowly, Toby, OK? This is special. We’re going to do it properly,” he said, trying to sound stern, his massive grin undermining the effort.

“Adil? It’s . . . it’s true, isn’t it? You really do love me?”

Adil wondered, for a moment, whether Toby did truly believe him yet, the thought that he could still be in any doubt leaving him feeling heartsick. 

“Yes. I really do love you.”

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has taken me a bit longer than I planned because I've been having a crappy time with other stuff. I hope you enjoy it!

Toby’s head rested against the warm skin of Adil’s chest as he listened to the hypnotic _thump, thump_ of his heartbeat. 

Adil had bathed with him, working out the knots of tension in his shoulders and back, rubbing fingertips over his scalp and temples to ease off the stress headache that had been building all evening.

This was the kind of intimacy Toby had never in a million years thought he’d get to enjoy until Adil had come along. Now they lay together, naked but completely comfortable - another marvel to Toby, who had never even been comfortable being naked with _himself._  Not before Adil.

“Are you OK?” Adil asked, breaking gently into Toby’s daydream. 

“I’ve never been this happy in my entire existence,” Toby whispered, fighting back tears.

Toby could _feel_ Adil smiling, his arms tightening around him as he spoke, “I was thinking about the first time I saw you. You just walked into the bar behind your brother, looking shy and awkward, as if you _weren’t_ the most gorgeous man in the room. You know people talk about things being breathtaking? I always thought it was a cliche; never really understood it until then. I saw you and I couldn’t quite remember whether I was supposed to breath in or out. Then you smiled at something - I’ve no idea what, something your brother said, I would think - but you just smiled. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. I knew then I’d never get you out of my head.”

“ _Being Toby Hamilton is something pretty special_ ,” Toby said slowly, wistfully, enunciating every word. “Do you remember saying that to me?”

“Yes, I remember. And _not_ just because you were in full dinner dress and I couldn’t stop thinking about taking your clothes off. You looked at me with that bloody _look_. Then our hands touched and it made my pulse drum in my ears.”

Toby rolled his eyes. “I do not have a ‘look’!”

“You do! You really _don’t know_ how lovely you are. I’ll give Lady Theresa that much. She said you were a ‘dish’ and she’s right.”

Toby grimaced. “Oh, _please_ tell me we’re _not_ talking about Lady Theresa while I’m naked between your legs . . .” he groaned.

Adil giggled. “I happen to be eternally grateful to her for chasing you down into the back bar that day. Who could have known you were escaping her clutches only to fall into mine?” He kissed Toby’s temple gently.

“Now _there_ you have a point. I _am_ extremely fond of your clutches . . .” Toby murmured, grinding his hips backwards slightly to put some friction between the small of his back and Adil’s hardness.

“God, Toby . . .” Adil reached down, and Toby groaned helplessly as he felt Adil’s hand close gently around his cock.

“I’ll never get used to how good it feels when you . . . _oh_ . . . do that,” whined Toby. Adil began to kiss his neck, leaning forward to drag his tongue across the sensitive skin of his throat. 

“I love touching you, Toby. When I’m not touching you I just think about it all the time.”

Toby sat up and turned around to face Adil, pressing him against the headboard with a kiss that was luscious and wanton. Adil whimpered into Toby’s mouth before flipping him over onto his back, holding himself over him, making him laugh softly.

“You’re a hell of a lot stronger than you look, Joshi.” Toby let his fingertips brush against Adil’s stomach, revelling in the way the muscles tensed pleasingly at his touch. “And this body. It’s . . . unfair.”

“Well, you get it all to yourself. All of it,” growled Adil, dipping his hips to rub their cocks together teasingly.

“I’m so lucky, Adil.”

“You’re so _lovely_.”

“ _You’re_ so soppy.”

Toby gasped brokenly as Adil flicked his tongue across his nipple, their bodies pressed together everywhere, Adil reaching down to grasp both of their cocks in his hand.

“Adil? Will you . . . use your fingers? I’d like to try. Please.”

Adil sat back, settling himself on his knees between Toby’s legs, just staring for a moment before leaning forward to press full kisses to the skin on the inside of Toby’s thigh, trailing down to his knee, then lifting his leg and kissing his calf, stopping at his ankle. Toby’s heart ached with love.

“I love you,” sighed Adil, “I love you so, _so_ much.”

They had taken things slowly, but Toby couldn’t help a feeling of trepidation. It soon gave way to swooping pleasure as he felt Adil press a lubricated finger to his opening, his other hand caressing Toby’s hipbone.

“If this hurts, _at all_ , if you want me to stop at all, tell me.”

Toby nodded.

As Adil gradually worked his index finger inside, slowly beginning to move, the slightly uncomfortable feeling of invasion gave way to a burgeoning desire for more. 

“Oh my . . . _God_ , that’s, _oh_ . . . Oh God! Jesus, that’s . . . that’s it . . . Adil . . . I . . .”

Adil smiled knowingly. “Good, huh? How does that feel? More?”

“More," nodded Toby quickly, "I had no idea how good . . .”

“Now do you see why I love it so much?”

“Mmm-Hmm. Yes. God, yes.”

“More?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Say it, Toby.”

“Please. Yes. More.”

Toby felt Adil push two fingers inside him, giving him time to adjust before moving them a little, just like before. When he felt Adil crook his fingers upwards, Toby threw his head back as the most intense pleasure he’d ever known suddenly swept out in a wave from the centre of his body.

“Oh . . . oh, sweet _Jesus_ that’s it. Right there. Oh, _God_ , Adil . . . “

As Adil finally pushed three fingers into Toby and grazed that spot again, Toby fisted wildly at the bedsheets, panting. “Adil. I want you inside me. Please. I want it so much. I . . . God I need it.”

“Toby, love, there’s no hurry, don’t feel . . .”

“Adil" Toby interrupted seriously, "do you want me to beg? Because that’s _really_ not something I’m above doing right now . . .”

The corner of Adil’s mouth lifted in a wry smile.

“I see. That’s the game we’re playing, is it?” purred Toby, reaching out to stroke Adil’s hard cock. “ _Please,_ Adil. I want you to make love to me. I want . . . I need to feel you inside me. Please.”

Adil moaned, and Toby could feel him tremble, his cock twitching in Toby’s hand. “You’re sure? If it hurts, if you need me to stop . . .”

“Adil, stop panicking. You won’t break me.”

“Toby, for once please just . . . don’t be stubborn, OK? Let me do this right.”

“I am _not_ stubborn.”

“Yes you are and you know it. Just remember to tell me how it feels.”

“I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“Adil, I’m so in love with you.”

Adil smiled, stroking Toby’s cheek lightly, before returning to making sure Toby was as ready as possible. As he lined himself up with Toby’s body, he gave him a last glance. Toby knew the look; a look he’d seen on Adil’s face every time they’d tried anything new. A silent question.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Toby insisted with a smile, “I trust you. Please.”

Toby felt Adil push himself forward. It was exactly the way Adil had described it. The initial feeling was one of dull ache and an incomparable fullness. Uncomfortable. Unlike anything he’d ever felt before. But not painful. Not in an unpleasant way; not like _hurt_. And the discomfort was quickly eclipsed by an indescribable feeling of closeness. Having Adil inside him made Toby’s heart throb with love and protectiveness.

After a few tentative, careful moments, Adil was finally filling Toby completely, his face a mask of utter concentration. 

Toby reached up to touch Adil’s cheek. “Are you OK? Is it OK?”

“Toby, it’s . . . God it’s wonderful. I’m . . . inside you. I love you, and I’m . . . “

Toby chuckled quietly, feeling as disbelieving as Adil sounded. “For me too. New. And wonderful. You . . . you can move if you want to.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. Start slowly. It’s fine. I’m fine. More than fine.”

Adil began to move from his hips, tortuously slowly. He was grasping at Toby’s thighs, his efforts to breath deeply, to keep his movements careful and shallow, obvious in the way he was squeezing his eyes shut, biting down on his lip.

Toby’s own cock was hard at the feeling of being stretched around Adil’s length, and he began to stroke himself firmly to match his movements. Soon, Adil was watching him attentively, mirroring Toby’s strokes, obviously using them to determine how quickly he wanted him to thrust.

“I can’t believe you’re mine. My Toby,” Adil gasped as he began to move a little more deeply, both his confidence and his arousal clearly building.

Toby had to fight to keep from keening as Adil lifted his hips slightly, hitting that same spot that had nearly blinded him with pleasure earlier. He wrapped his legs around Adil, urging him to go deeper, harder. 

Their pace was slow and deep and deliberate, and it didn’t take long before Toby felt that familiar growing heat weakening his body, loosening his tongue and smashing his inhibitions the way it always seemed to.

“Adil, I’m coming, don’t stop, God, I’m going to come . . .” Toby’s eyes rolled back as his body seized up and he coated his own stomach and hand with an ecstatic sob.

“Toby . . . Toby, oh _yes_ . . .”

“Come inside me. I want to feel you come inside me, Adil.”

“Oh God. Christ, Toby, you’re so tight . . . “ Adil’s thrusts became erratic and then, with a groan, his whole body seemed to tense, and Toby felt himself filled with the wet heat of his release.

Adil collapsed weakly onto Toby’s sticky chest and they lay panting together, the sound of their heavy breathing and sweet kisses bringing them back to themselves in time. 

Adil chuckled quietly. “You’ve got the kind of mouth on you that could drive an innocent bartender crazy, you know.”

“An _innocent_ bartender?!”

“Hmm, point taken.” Adil touched Toby’s chin with his finger, bringing their gazes together. “You . . . Toby Hamilton, you are the _best_ thing. The best thing in the world. And I love you more than anyone has ever loved anyone else.”

 _No more crying._ Toby told himself sternly. _No more tears tonight._ “No one has ever seen anything in me, you know,” he said thickly. “I can’t understand what I did to deserve you. And you never talk about what I _could_ be, do you? What I could be if I did some things less or some things more. If I were more like Freddie or, worse, more like my father. You seem _happy_ with what I am . . . I don’t pretend to understand it.”

“I’m _in love_ with what you are. All of it. And you don’t see the way people look at you in that bar . . .”

“Yes no doubt there are any number of silly rich girls out there who can be briefed to bat their eyelashes at a sap like me . . .” huffed Toby.

“Toby, it isn’t just those girls. It isn’t just girls at all actually . . .” Adil just shook his head as Toby looked at him, puzzled. “Look, just trust me, OK? What you’re describing is how you see _yourself_. I can promise you that the world sees you very differently. And I mean the world _outside_ your family. They don’t define you, you know. You’re a person, outside of being a Hamilton.”

“Well, none of that matters anyway,” said Toby cheerfully, pulling Adil tightly to him. “How can I be expected to care a jot for the opinions of the world when the most perfect man in it wants me. Loves me?”

“Come here,” sighed Adil, guiding Toby to rest his head on his chest. “But don’t fall asleep. We need to get cleaned up before you drift into your customary coma . . .”

“How dare you! I am _not_ a heavy sleeper. I am all delicacy.” Toby preened.

“You _are_ a heavy sleeper. You snore as well . . .”

As Toby made to push him away, feigning outrage, he melted at the sight of Adil’s huge, genuine smile, and found he couldn’t do a thing but smile back.

“Forgive me?” Adil asked, wide-eyed.

“Never.” Toby said sulkily, before grinning again, rubbing his nose against Adil’s tenderly. 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

It would be dawn soon.

Toby had the day off and Adil was working the evening shift. They still wouldn’t be able to lay together in bed like Adil wished they could, kissing and dozing and talking, but at least they would both be able to catch up on some of the sleep they’d lost last night. Adil felt his cheeks prickle with heat as he grinned at the memory of it all; what Toby had said, the way he’d moved . . .

 _We’ll probably never be able to spend all day in bed together,_  he thought dejectedly.

Toby had drifted off to sleep a little while ago, apparently soothed by the cigarette he always reached for after sex. After sex, and after arguments. Adil loved learning these things about Toby; savouring every tiny, precious detail.

He had lay awake, watching Toby’s eyelids flicker in dreams, watching and holding the man he loved - the man who loved _him_ , who trusted him enough to open both his heart and his body to him. 

Adil knew well the fierce intensity of the feelings that came from what Toby had let him do with him last night; what he had given to him so willingly. He remembered the vulnerability, the blinding love he felt when Toby had first been inside him that way. It was as if in being together in their bodies they had handed over a part of themselves to each other. It made Adil want to tear apart anyone who would hurt the man asleep in his arms. He let himself wonder whether Toby would wake feeling the same way. Feeling _changed_ somehow.

Adil felt like he spent so much time just _longing_ since Toby came into his life. He longed for a world where he could live the way he wanted to, taking Toby out in public, sharing experiences and memories with him. In a world that was fair he could take Toby to the British Museum where they would wander around hand in hand. Toby loves the British Museum. They could travel to Cornwall together. There’s a stretch of coast there near Looe that Toby talks about all the time. They would walk there on a crisp autumn day and then, wrapped up warm and side by side, gazing out to sea, Adil would ask Toby to promise to stay with him forever. To marry him. Toby would say yes and they would go back to their little cottage and spend all night making love in front of an open fire. In time, they would find a little boy and a little girl who needed a home and they would raise them together. They would have Toby’s love of books, his too-quick temper that flared up at injustice. And no one would think it disgusting or immoral or even all that unusual that two people in love had built their lives this way.

It was Adil’s favourite fantasy. He could spend hours in it, walking around. Living in it. 

Coming back to reality was inevitable, and always crushing. Apart from the fact that reality was where Toby was, of course. The rest might be a dream. It might well be completely impossible. But Toby? Toby was _real_.

Adil suddenly realised he’d been humming a tune; a little slowy that Sonny and Betsey and the guys had started playing a few nights ago. He didn’t know the words, but the tune was pleasant enough. It was funny the way people seemed to favour the upbeat numbers these days. It was as if their happiness had taken on an air of doggedness; as if they owed each other the patriotism of being almost aggressively jolly. 

But every now and then they _did_ still like a slow dance. Perhaps there was something obstinate in romance in the middle of a war, too, pondered Adil. Every little happiness a defiance of The Enemy . . .

“Hmmm, s’nice . . .” Toby slurred, his eyes still closed, turning his head into Adil’s touch, almost catlike.

Adil smiled. “I thought _you_ were asleep . . .”

“I was.”

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Adil brought his lips to Toby’s temple.

“Don’t mind. I feel like it’s a shame to spend the time I get with you sleeping, anyway,” said Toby through a yawn, stretching his limbs and trying to pull Adil into a tighter embrace at the same time.

“You have to sleep _some_ time, Toby . . .”

“So do you,” Toby retorted defensively.

“I know. I’ve just been turning some things over in my mind, that’s all.”

“I know. You’re a loud thinker.” Toby finally opened his eyes and looked blearily at Adil. “Are you OK? You’d say if something was wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s alright. Everything’s _wonderful_ ,” sighed Adil, running the tip of his tongue over Toby’s bottom lip, taking it between his teeth gently. “But I need to get going soon. I actually _do_ need to get some sleep before work tonight.”

Toby groaned weakly. “So should I . . . tonight’s why _I_ managed to get out of work today, in fact. I’ve to greet Lady Isabel with mother. No Freddie to be had, so I get the very great honour . . .” he sighed drily.

Adil felt the familiar tingle of apprehension in his hands, and the swooping of dread in the pit of his stomach - Lady Hamilton engaging Toby for evenings like this usually only meant one thing . . .

“Ah, yes, I had been told we were expecting Lady Isabel . . . Musgrove, yes?”

Toby nodded.

”Let’s see if I can guess. Lady Isabel comes complete with a young daughter, charming and beautiful and unaccountably single?” Adil asked, trying to sound flippant.

Toby laughed. “On this occasion, no. No daughter. No children at all, in fact. Lady Isabel never married. The eccentric spinster daughter of the late Lord Musgrove. It’s her younger brother holds the title now, with Lady Isabel being female. The British aristocracy for you - convoluted, ridiculous and unfair.” Toby seemed uncomfortable, wincing a little as he moved to press his cheek to Adil’s chest.

“Are you OK? Toby, did I . . . I didn’t _hurt_ you, did I? When we . . . ?”

Toby circled his fingers over Adil’s stomach, kissing his skin reassuringly. “No. I’m just aching a little. It’s OK, Adil. It feels . . . I don’t know. Like a delightful exhaustion,” he whispered, his voice low and sultry. “Look, don’t worry about me, OK? It’s all perfectly fine. God, it was _more_ than fine. It was incredible. Now, will you just let me hold onto you for a little while longer?”

“Toby . . .” Adil whined pleadingly, Toby’s touch weakening his resolve.

“Yes, alright, I know - you have to leave,” Toby rolled away from Adil and onto his back, pouting. 

Adil propped himself up on his elbow, allowing himself a moment to enjoy how thoroughly _naughty_ Toby looked when he was being petulant. “It’s lovely, you know. That you don’t like it when I leave,” he said warmly.

“Of course I don’t like it. It’s the only thing I don’t like about seeing you like this. That I know it has to end. That you have to leave. Eventually.” Toby gazed at the ceiling, looking morose, twisting his signet ring in that vulnerable, compulsive way that always melted Adil’s heart.

“My leaving doesn’t mean I stop thinking about you, you know that. Or wanting you. I never stop loving you. Not for one bloody minute. OK?” Adil said earnestly.

“Promise me you’ll get some sleep before you come back in later?” asked Toby with a sad smile.

“I promise. Need to be shipshape for Lady Isabel’s welcome tonight - I imagine it’ll be a case of ‘if we’ve got it, put it on ice’. And much as I’d like to announce to the world that I’m a bit the worse for wear after a night of passion with the man I love . . .”

“I won’t be able to stop thinking about you all day. It really can get rather awkward at breakfast with mother . . .” Toby beamed widely, his smile reaching his eyes, making them shine. 

Adil ran a thumb over Toby’s jawline and kissed his forehead, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind his ear before drawing in a fortifying breath and getting out of bed, summoning every last scrap of his self control. He smiled sadly as Toby turned his face to the pillow where Adil’s had been a moment ago and sighed into it.

The next step was always the riskiest. Adil knew he had to time it right to leave Toby’s room without being noticed. 

Dressed and ready, he closed his eyes and, standing at the side of the bed, leaned down and kissed Toby a last time, knowing that to meet his gaze right now would be to torture himself with the inescapable urge to get back under those sheets with him and never, ever get out.

Adil walked to the door and, without turning around, spoke softly: “I love you, Toby.”

“I love you too,” came a whisper back.


	6. Chapter 6

Toby had a feeling he was going to like Lady Isabel Musgrove the moment she swept regally into the bar on that first night of her stay at The Halcyon. 

They had met before but, as was the case with so many of his mother and late father’s acquaintances, the encounter had been fleeting, taking place when he was still far too young to be able to recall it properly now. 

Lady Isabel was a tall, robustly elegant woman of about fifty with distinctly greying hair, accompanied by a much shorter, slight woman, roughly the same age, who she introduced as her assistant, Miss Lucy Howard.

Lady Isabel had quickly insisted that they should all proceed on first name terms, and Toby had had to bite down a chuckle at the expression of distaste that had flitted across Lady Hamilton’s face at what she no doubt secretly considered to be a vulgar suggestion.  

Dinner that night had been the first time Toby could remember having truly _enjoyed_ an evening performing his filial duties for an old friend of his mother. He had of course watched the time, as he always did, counting the hours until he could get Adil alone. But, for once, he found that that was the _only_ reason he was clock-watching. For once, present company had not been altogether uncomfortable or unpleasant.

Two nights later, the four of them - Toby, Lady Hamilton, Lady Isabel and Miss Howard - sat together in the bar after dinner. Once again, Toby thought that the gathering had been positively companionable when compared to his mother’s usual efforts. He had been feeling decidedly below par all day, shaky and tired and weak, but still he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so engaged and _heard_ in this kind of social situation. Isabel and Lucy seemed genuinely interested in his work at the War Office, asking questions, and actually _listening_ as he answered them. 

The only disadvantage was the effect it was having on his mother. The champagne, coupled with seeing Lady Isabel showing an interest in her son’s life, seemed to be making her uncharacteristically solicitous, and she had moved close to Isabel conspiratorially as the latter began to ask Toby yet another question about what he hoped to do when the war was over.

His mother interrupted just as Toby opened his mouth to answer. “Of course, what _I’m_ really hoping is that in getting out of his academic bubble and into the _real_ world, Toby will eventually find himself a suitable young woman and settle down. It would be so _lovely_ to have grandchildren . . .”

Toby spluttered into the drink he had been sipping somewhat reluctantly for the last half an hour, a fierce blush rushing to his cheeks. “Really, mother, please!”

Isabel didn't bat an eyelid. “Well I feel sure that Toby will find great happiness one day. But surely Freddie will be first for a match?” she asked, undeterred. 

It was the first time Toby could recall Freddie being mentioned as an addendum to enquiries about his own life. It was usually the other way around. Everyone wanted to know about the young bachelor Lord Hamilton, and particularly about his love life. His younger brother was, perhaps inevitably, considered a less riveting topic by comparison.

“Oh, Freddie could hardly be expected to have time for all of that, with the Air Force,” said his mother breezily. “No, I’m rather afraid I’ll need to be patient there, until this wretched war is over, at least.”

Toby wasn’t sure whether it was the heat of the room, or the horror of hearing his mother’s all-too-familiar schemes escalate from courtship to marriage and children in the course of a single evening, but he could feel himself becoming less and less alert as the conversation went on. He knew he wasn’t drunk; for the first time in a long time he had found himself unable to take more than a few sips of champagne without feeling sick to his stomach, nursing one glass for as long as it would have taken him to polish off the whole bottle under normal circumstances.

And his sickly pallor had certainly not escaped his mother’s attention.

“Darling, you do look _very_ pale,” she implored theatrically for what must have been the fifth time since dinner.

“I’m fine,” Toby replied gruffly.

“Are you _sure_ , darling?” she probed.

“Mother, really, I am  _fine_!” Toby yelled, causing all three women around him to stiffen suddenly, and a discernible hush to descend on the whole room. Toby supposed he was the only one to notice when Adil also looked up with concern from behind the bar at the sound of his raised voice.

His mother affected a hurt look. “Well, if you insist,” she hissed as she got up out of her seat. “Will you excuse me Isabel, Lucy? I see Emma has arrived and I really must speak to her urgently.”

“Yes of course, we . . .” started Isabel, but Lady Hamilton was already gliding away, her head held high in a lofty sulk. 

Toby groaned, throwing his head back. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper with her, I apologise - I fear I’ve managed to upset her _and_ embarrass you both in one fell swoop . . .”

“I can’t speak for your mother, Toby, but you haven’t embarrassed _us_ in the slightest. Though, at the risk of stoking your ire . . .” she purred with a tight smile, “I’m afraid you really _do_ look quite under the weather. I’m thoroughly enjoying your company and I know that dear Lucy here is too but, please, if you _do_ need some rest, we won’t be in the least bit offended.”

“Thank you Lady . . . um, Isabel.” Toby was still struggling rather awkwardly with _that_ particular intimacy. “But, really, I’ll be fine. I haven’t been sleeping as well as I usually do and I’m afraid I’ve overdone things a little recently.”

“Burning the candle at both ends, I’m sure. I don’t blame you. Would that I were still young enough to get away with doing the same!” She paused to sip gracefully from her glass.

Toby was intrigued to see Lucy gazing up at her fondly as she spoke. Lucy was entirely placid; the perfect complement to Isabel’s vibrancy, and she watched, apparently quite content, as Isabel gave all of her attention over to Toby.

“Now this is really none of my business, so you must feel quite entitled to tell an old woman to keep her nose out of it if you like,” Isabel continued in a lower voice, “but I hope you won’t let your mother’s, well, shall we call it _persistence_? I hope you won’t let it undermine too much of what it is you want for _yourself_ , despite all of her good intentions. It is difficult when our parents’ hopes and plans for us don’t harmonise with our own wishes and desires - when our hearts don’t beat the way society tells us they ought to. I know all too well,” Lucy shot her a sideways glance that looked almost cautionary, but Isabel ploughed on regardless. “When I was your age, well, let’s just say I was a girl and it was before the Great War. If you think _your_ life is set in stone, you can imagine how mine felt at the time. When I showed signs of not toeing the line, well . . . It’s never easy going against the grain, Toby. But it’s often the _right_ thing to do. Sometimes the path of least resistance tricks you into thinking it’s the _right_ path when really it’s just . . . easier,” she finished with a serene smile that reached all the way to her eyes.

Black spots had started to distort Toby’s vision as he watched Isabel finish her speech, words forming in his mind but refusing, for some reason, to leave his mouth. His hands trembled and he felt a sheen of sweat break out on his forehead.

Standing up quickly to excuse himself for some fresh air, he saw Isabel reach out to him just as his knees buckled and he fell to the floor, both the room and the people in it fading to darkness.

 

\- - - - - 

 

Adil didn’t _decide_ to run to Toby when he saw him crumple to the ground. There was no moment of decision. His legs just moved.

 _Keep calm_ he told himself. _It’ll be OK if you keep calm. It has to be. It can’t not be OK._

The relief when he reached Toby, when he got to him and laid his hands on him, was so sharp Adil had to bite his lip to keep from crying.

“Mr Hamilton? Mr Hamilton?” he called frantically, before leaning in closer to whisper, “Toby! Toby, are you alright? Please just say something.”

He looked up to see Lady Isabel Musgrove and her assistant watching him tending to Toby, their gazes soft with concern, and something else Adil couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

Lady Isabel bristled suddenly, appearing to come back from a daydream. “Thank you Adil. Yes, I’ll need your help to make sure that Mr Hamilton gets to his room and that a doctor is called. I’m afraid it rather looks as though he’s had a little too much to drink, but that’s not . . .”

“No, no I know,” said Adil, only vaguely conscious of having just interrupted Lady Hamilton’s guest - and a lord’s sister at that. “He’s hardly taken a drink all evening, it can’t possibly be that.”

Adil could have cried out with relief as he saw Toby begin to stir, his eyes opening slowly, a look of confusion on his face. “Adil?” he asked weakly.

“It’s OK, you’re OK. We’re going to get you up to your room and we’ll get you a doctor,” soothed Adil, trying to remain as professional as he could bear to, fighting the almost primal urge to hold Toby’s warm, breathing, _living_ body against his own, and damn the rest of the world to hell. 

“Toby, oh my God Toby darling!” Lady Hamilton’s voice pierced the air as she strutted over and planted herself in front of Toby. “What happened to him?!” she asked frantically of no-one in particular, holding his face softly between her flawless hands. Adil was disarmed by the rare display of maternalism, and the hot spark of jealousy he felt as he watched it, wishing he could have done the same. The taste of the powerlessness he felt at seeing Toby prone, unable to reach out to him and help him when he needed him, was nauseatingly bitter.

“It looked as though he fainted,” Lady Isabel answered tenderly. “He’s barely had one drink and as you said earlier he’s been looking pale all evening. Priscilla dear, perhaps we can ask Mr Joshi here to help him up to his room and have someone call a doctor to be sure.”

“I don’t need a doctor,” Toby croaked, making an ungraceful attempt to stand up.

 _Damn your stubbornness, Toby. Do what they say._ Adil looked straight into Toby’s eyes, hoping he could read the plea there. _Please Toby. Don’t make me feel more helpless than I already do._

Toby looked at him, dazed but clearly coming slowly to his senses. “But, yes, Adil, perhaps I _could_ use your help just to get me upstairs? It seems I’m still a little unsteady and I’d hate to . . .”

“Oh don’t be absurd, Toby, I’ll do it,” muttered Lady Hamilton.

“No! Mother, perhaps _you_ would call for the doctor while I go up?” Toby requested, surprisingly assertively.

“I think that sounds very sensible, Priscilla. Let Mr Joshi here help and we’ll wait for the doctor,” coaxed Lady Isabel quickly, nodding to Adil authoritatively. 

Adil took Toby’s arm before Lady Hamilton could intervene again, unsettled by how jarringly odd, how almost thrilling it was to be touching Toby openly in front of so many people.

When they reached the lobby and got far enough away from concerned eyes, Adil whispered to Toby without looking at him, his face still trained forwards. “Jesus, Toby, what happened? You look terrible.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve been feeling dreadful all day. I think I’m just tired. I really don’t need a doctor - I mean for God’s sake, imagine calling a doctor out this late at night for something like this when there’s a war happening all around us, it’s ridiculous. But it was the only way to get Mother to stand down.”

“ _Please_ see the doctor. Please, for me. And cooperate with him when he comes, Toby. You’re not well and I’m worried about you. You _collapsed_ for God’s sake. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen you snap at your mother the way you did earlier . . .”

When they reached the lift, Adil assured the attendant that they could manage alone and closed the doors behind them, finally giving in to his anxiety and dragging Toby into his arms. 

“I wish I could take care of you right now. God Toby, when you went over like that, I . . . after everything you’ve been through lately. I’ve not been taking care of you like I should, Toby . . .”

“Adil, you don’t think this is your fault, do you?!” Toby’s eyes filled with tears.

Adil said nothing, afraid he would break down himself if he tried to speak.

“Oh, my . . . that couldn’t be further from the truth, Adil. I’m just a bit run down, that’s all. Work has been chaotic and then I’m coming back in the evenings to entertain with Mother, and . . .  and you _are_ taking care of me. You’re _here_. It’s got nothing to do with any of that. With _us_. God, that . . . don’t you know you’re the only good, happy, healthy thing in my life right now? Please don’t blame yourself for this. I’m so sorry I worried you,” Toby started to pale again, swaying on his feet. He lifted his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Toby, Toby, stay calm. Of _course_ I’m worried about you. Toby, I _love_ you, I’m always going to worry about you. I just . . . the time you should be using to rest you’ve been spending with _me_ and I . . . I wouldn’t be able to bear it if I, if _this_ was making you ill.”

“Just kiss me,” sighed Toby with a weak smile.

Adil pressed his lips gently to Toby’s. “I wish I didn’t need an excuse to touch you in front of people like that,” he breathed, rubbing their noses together sweetly.

“Do you suppose I can hold off the doctor by telling them all I did it on purpose to get the delicious barman to manhandle me?” Toby chuckled feebly as the lift came to a stop and Adil, rolling his eyes, led him out into the deserted corridor.

“Can you walk on your own?”

“Yes, but hold onto me anyway. I want an excuse to feel you next to me for a bit longer.”

As Adil helped Toby slowly into his bedroom, out of his jacket and shoes and onto his bed, he didn’t think he’d ever wanted so desperately to lay himself out alongside him and soothe him to sleep.

As if conjured by the sheer force of Adil’s yearning, Lady Hamilton walked straight into Toby’s room, trailing both Mr Garland and a man who was obviously the doctor in her wake. 

She looked Adil up and down cursorily. “Thank you for your help, um . . ?” she turned to Mr Garland to supply Adil’s name.

“Mr Joshi, Lady Hamilton. Adil Joshi.” Mr Garland provided stiffly.

“Yes, Mr Joshi, you’ve been most helpful, it’s very much appreciated.” Adil had already felt strangely violated when she and Mr Garland had wandered so casually into Toby’s room; this safe, sacred space where they had been together, had shared so much love and intimacy. But when she proffered cash by way of a tip for his help, he felt both insignificant and physically sick.

“That is extremely generous Lady Hamilton but not necessary. I was quite glad to be able to assist Mr Hamilton,” he said, struggling to care at this point whether his cold tone passed for professionalism or plain rudeness.

Adil took a last look at Toby as he lay on the bed. He still looked drawn and vulnerable, but Adil was heartened to see that some colour was returning to his cheeks even as they spoke. 

Mr Garland gestured Adil out of Toby’s room as if it were his own office. Adil liked Mr Garland, respected him, but the man’s presence here, in this place, was making him irritable and angry.

“I very much hope you feel well again soon, Mr Hamilton,” Adil said firmly. He wouldn’t be forced to leave without even saying goodbye. “Please . . . don’t hesitate to let me know if there’s _anything_ at all you need.”

“Thank you Adil, very much indeed.”

Toby smiled, his eyes meeting Adil’s. Adil was sure they’d give themselves away in that moment; that only a fool could see the look that passed between them and not recognise the bond they shared, the way they longed for each other. Adil wanted to say _I love you;_ could almost hear Toby saying _stay_.

Adil nodded gratefully at the doctor before leaving. Mr Garland followed, closing the door of Toby’s room behind him.

“Thank you, Mr Joshi. You handled that with professionalism and discretion. I will not forget it,” he said quietly as they made their way down the corridor together, his face its usual inscrutable mask.

“Thank you, Mr Garland,” Adil responded impassively.

Everything about walking away from Toby right now felt wrong. Unnatural. 

“Take a moment before returning to the bar if you need it.”

Adil stopped in his tracks, inhaling deeply. “Thank you. I will do that if it’s OK with you. Get myself together.”

“Quite, take what time you need,” answered Mr Garland, his face twitching with the closest thing to a smile Adil had ever received from him.

Mr Garland continued on his way down the corridor, Adil turning to walk in the opposite direction, unsure where to go or what to do with himself.

He froze as he nearly walked straight into Lady Isabel, who had clearly been waiting for him.

“Well done, Adil. That must have been difficult for you,” she said, her voice hushed. “I wonder if I could trouble you for a word?”


	7. Chapter 7

“Oh please, do take a seat,” Lady Isabel trilled as she dropped heavily into one of the two armchairs which sat at an angle on either side of the small table in her room. She toed off her shoes and lit a cigarette, looking up expectantly at Adil when he didn’t move. He’d been standing stiffly right by the door since she had ushered him in from the corridor, his hands balled anxiously into fists at his sides.

“Um, well, thank you, Lady Isabel . . .” he stumbled over his words, clearing his throat nervously. “Although, I mean, I don’t wish to be impolite, but Mr Garland _is_ expecting me back shortly . . . “

“Oh yes, don’t worry about that, I shan’t keep you long.’

Adil sat reluctantly in the opposite armchair, on the edge of the seat, suddenly feeling as though he had too many limbs and nowhere to put them all. Isabel offered him a cigarette, which he refused automatically. He was unused to even being _addressed_ by people like Lady Isabel, much less being asked to sit cozily in their company.

“How . . . um, how can I help you, my Lady?”

Isabel cocked her head slightly, her smile kindly and fond. “Don’t look so terrified Adil. I mean you absolutely no harm. You don’t mind if I call you Adil? Or do you prefer Mr Joshi?”

“Adil is fine, of course, my Lady.” Adil was quietly amused despite his discomfort; he would willingly let her call him just about any name she wanted to if it meant they could get this conversation over with a little quicker.

“ _Please_ call me Isabel,” she sighed.

“I couldn’t possibly, my Lady.”

“Really? Why not?” She sounded genuinely curious.

Adil smiled at the thought of the reaction downstairs if the barman suddenly starting calling Lady Isabel Musgrove by her Christian name. “Mr Garland wouldn’t approve. And I’m quite certain Lady Hamilton would assume the sky was about to fall down on us all.”

Isabel threw her head back and laughed deeply. “Yes I’m sure you’re right there,” she nodded knowingly, puffing out a dramatic cloud of cigarette smoke. “Very well, then. Though as they’re not around right now, I _do_ much prefer Isabel.”

“Of course. _Isabel_.” Adil smiled tightly. The word felt clumsy on his tongue; unnatural, somehow.

Isabel put out her cigarette, exhaling as if steeling herself for something. “Now, Adil, I need to ask you a question and I’m afraid you’ll think it rather forward. But I feel someone needs to ask it, that eventually someone _will_ ask it, and better it were me and not anyone less  . . . well-intentioned. Adil, are you in _love_ with Toby?”

Adil felt his stomach roil with shock and dread. Something in her tone told him there would be no convincing Isabel that he wasn’t in love with Toby. Besides, he wasn’t sure he was capable of denying it believably. But, if he was careful, he may be able to spare Toby from being implicated in whatever was coming.

_Think_ , he willed himself. _God, think, think now_.

“Toby doesn’t know,” he said softly, looking at his feet. 

Isabel nodded as if confirming a suspicion. “You don’t need to protect him from me, Adil,” she said sadly. “As I’ve said, I mean you well. _Both_ of you. And I promise that my question is not a prurient one. I’m asking you whether you both have the _same_ feelings for one another. Toby is a man in love if I ever saw one; I’ve no doubt of that. I dare say he supposes he’s terribly discrete when he stares at you behind that bar like you’re an oasis in the desert. But the fact that that goes largely unnoticed is to no small extent because so many of those people are too caught up in their own trivia to notice anything beyond the end of their own noses. The way you ran to him with so little thought for your own reputation this evening would suggest that you return his feelings. And the way you just lied to my face in an attempt to protect him speaks volumes, too. I don’t wish to see Toby hurt. _That_ is why I am asking you this; why I am prepared to make you feel uncomfortable which, _believe_ me, I'm not enjoying one bit. There’s nothing wrong with a dalliance, of course, as long as both parties are careful, and understand that that is what it is, _all_ that it is, but Toby . . .”

“Yes. I love Toby,” Adil interrupted flatly. He wasn’t going to try to deny it. He got up and moved to stand behind the chair he had just been sitting in, unable to sit still for another second. “I’ve never loved anyone or anything more. I can’t speak for Toby. And I _won’t_ be corralled into doing so. So . . . I assume you plan to use this knowledge against me in some way? Can I suggest you make your position clear so that I can return to my work?” He suddenly felt tired to his bones. Tired of worrying. Tired of hiding.

Isabel’s shoulders slumped as if all the air was leaving her. “Oh, you poor boy.” Adil was taken aback to hear her voice breaking, her eyes glassing over as she spoke. “You’ve not had an easy time of things, have you? You can’t imagine anyone knowing something like this and wanting to do anything other than shame you for it.”

“Lady . . . _Isabel_ ,” he corrected, “I won’t insult your intelligence by pointing out that the society we live in regards my feelings as criminal. I believe you know that well enough. Yet you want me to believe that you don’t intend to use this knowledge to some advantage?”

“No. I don’t. And while I don’t know what it is to have my love regarded as criminal I do know what it is to be constrained by society and shunned and persecuted for feelings I cannot change, nor would even if I could,” Isabel sighed deeply before continuing, her knuckles white as she gripped the arms of her chair. “I’m not sure which rumours about me have managed to circulate this establishment yet and which have not, but you have been honest with me and I will do the same with you. Lucy Howard, my assistant who is accompanying me on this stay, is my companion.”

“Your _companion_?”

Isabel didn’t flinch. “Perhaps I’m not being candid enough. Lucy is my _lover._ She has been for fifteen years. I understand what it means to love someone, and to be told that that love is unnatural or invalid or trivial. I know what Lucy and I have is not illegal, Adil. I won’t pretend we risk what you and Toby risk. But because we are two women it is seen as something meaningless. A joke. Not real. That comes with its own feelings of despair. It is an exile from . . .  personhood.”

“Yes. An exile.” Adil echoed. He had never heard his own feelings reflected so eerily accurately; the lack of acceptance and understanding in the world that left him feeling so detached from it all.

“Lucy and I are something of an open secret, among those members of society who have decided they can tolerate our ‘eccentricity’. For many, that eccentricity is regarded more as a ‘perversion’, and is _not_ tolerable. They are those who no longer speak to us. Fortunately I am in a position now where I require neither their introductions nor their approval - though I must admit that being estranged from my brother, Lord Musgrove, is especially painful. Our father was understanding, if not exactly thrilled, but when he passed . . . well, mercifully by then adequate provision had been made for me. By a mixture of luck and guile I managed to avoid ever being _forced_ to marry . . .”

“I’m sorry to hear of what you’ve been through. Truly I am. But I have to assume there is a reason you are telling me this?”

“I’m telling you because I want you to believe that I can be trusted. And because I’m going to ask you something which will require that _I_ can trust _you_.”

“Which is?"

“You saw what happened to Toby this evening. We all know he’ll be OK, but it’s patently obvious he needs rest. And _I_ need a favour. Which is why I’m going to suggest something to him. I need him to do something for me. Something of mutual benefit.”

“Then you should be asking _him_.” 

“Yes, and I will. But I needed to speak to you first. This affects you. Will you sit again, please? There is more I need to tell you and you’re making me nervous standing there looking like a condemned man.”

Adil sat back down hesitantly.

“Thank you, Adil. To cut a long story short, it would appear I’m not long for this world. My doctors are of the opinion that if I live out the year it will be a matter of very good luck.”

“I’m so very sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you. But I’m not bitter about it. It would have been wonderful to have had children - I suppose my own, if I’d had them, would have been about _your_ age now,” she said wistfully. “I have Lucy and can provide for her and others I care about when I’m gone which is all that means anything much to me. I have never been starving, never forced into a miserable marriage like . . . like so many other young women with whom I grew up.” Her eyes clouded over for a moment, and Adil began to think she had forgotten he was there until she suddenly starting speaking again as if nothing had happened. “I believe I have been dealt a fair hand when one takes stock of it all. Everything is in good order. But there is one thing I need to take care of, something I don’t feel right leaving to Lucy when the time comes, and which I can hardly ask of children I don’t have . . .” She stopped to light another cigarette before continuing. “I own several houses, one of which is a small cottage, in Scotland, in woodland just outside a small village on the banks of Loch Lomond. Lucy and I lived there together for a few years some time ago, before the Scottish winters began to get a little _too_ bracing for me . . .” 

The corner of Adil’s mouth lifted sadly. It was hard to imagine anything being too hard, too bracing, too challenging for Isabel. She seemed like a force of nature in her own right. 

“Anyway,” she continued, “we closed up the cottage and have been based in Devon since then. Now I come to my point. There are matters to be settled at the cottage. Specifically, there are papers, letters and so on, things of some intimacy, packed away there which I should like returned to me. Which I should like to see again before . . .”

“Surely it would just be a matter of arranging a courier of some kind? I’m sure Mr Garland could recommend . . .”

“No. As I said, they include things of a private nature. I would need someone sympathetic, trustworthy, discrete - someone who understands a little about the way I have had to live my life, you see - to sort through them first. I need someone to travel to the cottage and take care of it all. Two weeks should be enough, possibly three at the most. They would arrange my affairs there before closing it up again and returning the more . . . _personal_ items to me directly.”

Adil was glad he was sitting down. He understood now. Toby was going away. She was going to send him away.

“Do you think Toby would agree?” Isabel probed. “It would be an opportunity for him to rest, to breathe some clean air . . .”

“He’d be gone three weeks?”

“You misunderstand me. You _both_ would. There is no staff at the cottage, Adil. None is usually  _needed_ , after all. I can make arrangements to have someone call in to make the place ready for Toby’s arrival but there would be no-one to care for or assist him during his stay. I would like you to go along to do this.”

“You must see that’s impossible,” said Adil weakly, exasperated at having to point out that such a blissful, perfect vision could never come to pass. Three weeks in an isolated cottage alone with Toby? Of course it was too good to be true.

“You mean his job at the War Office, I suppose? And yours here?”

“Well, yes, for a start . . .”

“I am able to pull some strings with the War Office. I’m confident they will give Toby the time he needs to recuperate without it compromising his position. It’s in their interests to allow him time so that he returns to them at his best, after all. He’s Lord Hamilton’s brother; he doesn’t _have_ to work at all. He _chooses_ to. And he excels at it. His intelligence is . . . uncommon. They will grant us this boon in order to retain him in the long run. As for you, I will pay The Halcyon to keep your place and to find cover while you are gone. I will explain that Toby needs you, that I need him and you to transact some business for me and that I’m willing to pay for the service and the inconvenience it causes others.”

Adil stood dumbstruck. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t possibly work.

“You had other concerns?” Isabel asked casually.

“Well, surely this . . . I’m not a _valet_. It would look odd. People will ask questions.”

“You’ve already expressed an interest in further training in the past, yes? Broadening your horizons?”

“Well, yes . . .”

“And Toby is brilliant and competent, could certainly help you to learn but, well, with the greatest will in the world, he does require assistance with the more . . . _practical_ aspects of life.”

“Yes . . .” Adil nearly chuckled at the thought of Toby having to take care of himself for three weeks. His cheeks warmed at the memory of him struggling with his own tie, the second time they had kissed, in his room when he was getting ready for work. Toby was such a genius and yet lacked basic common sense. Adil adored that about him.

“It is a logical and workable partnership as far as I can see, Adil, and should invite minimal questions. Can I assume, then, that you’re willing?”

“Yes. If Toby is willing. If he needs me, I’ll be there.”

_What am I saying?_ Adil thought. _What on earth have I just agreed to?_

“Good!” Isabel chirped in a way that suggested a _fait accompli._ “Then I’ll put it to Toby tonight.”

“Please . . . _please_ handle him gently. Toby panics very easily. The last thing he needs is to be upset after what happened tonight.” It did occur to Adil that details of Isabel’s plan might be better coming from him, but it was also true that it involved truths - she and Lucy, her failing health - that were hers to tell. 

“I will, I promise you.”

Adil paused as he turned to leave. “Lady Isabel?”

“Yes, _Mr Joshi_?” she asked, rolling her eyes.

“Thank you for remembering my name. Earlier, when you asked for my help, with Toby. You remembered it.”

“Why wouldn’t I remember your name? You had told it to me when I asked the night I arrived.”

“Yes, but, well, I’m required to tell my name to a lot of people. They’re not required to remember it and rarely do.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. All I can say is that it reflects badly on those people. You’ll want to see Toby again tonight?”

Adil didn’t imagine he’d be able to get anywhere close to Toby while Lady Hamilton and Mr Garland and the doctor were still swarming around.“Yes. Yes I’d like that very much, but . . .”

“Then call on him when your shift ends. Don’t worry . . .” Isabel said quickly as Adil began to protest,  “. . . I will see to it that he’s left alone. I’ll sit with him, then you will take over when you finish your work. If anyone asks, we wanted to make sure someone was to hand in case he needed anything, and you were simply relieving me so that I could get some rest. No one will think anything of it.”

“Thank you Lady . . . Isabel.”

Isabel smiled. “Adil, I know you’re taking a risk trusting me. I will prove equal to it, I promise you that. Now, best return to the bar, keep dear old Mr Garland sweet, and I’ll see you a little later on.”

Adil’s mind raced as he made his way back down to the bar and threw himself back into his work. Bitter experience had taught him not to trust people, any people, with his confidence. But he trusted Toby, and Toby had told him that there was something direct about Lady Isabel, that made you believe that if she wanted to hurt or blackmail you, she’d do it; that toying with people wasn’t her style. 

Adil was inclined to agree. He hoped he wouldn’t regret it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For information, Balmaha is a real place on the banks of Loch Lomond. Cadha Cottage and its location are both complete fiction. Sadly.
> 
> Cadha is a Scottish name, meaning 'steep place'.

Toby still wasn’t quite sure how Isabel had managed to talk him into this trip.

When he’d recovered from the initial shock of finding out that she knew about him and Adil, he’d patiently listed all the many barriers to what she was suggesting. He knew Adil had too. She had just dismissed them, one by one, in entirely practical, logical terms. Toby couldn’t help feeling that an opportunity like this - to spend three weeks in an isolated Scottish retreat with Adil - should be much harder to come by than was proving to be the case.

The resistance from the War Office to his leave was practically non-existent. In fact, his pride had been a little wounded at their apparent readiness to allow him time off. Toby had always known the place could and would continue to operate without him. That didn’t mean he especially wanted to be reminded of the fact. 

Mr Garland must have put up _some_ resistance to Adil’s being away for three weeks. Even if Toby _was_ biased in his favour, Adil was undeniably an excellent barman and waiter, and Mr Garland wouldn’t take enthusiastically to losing him, even temporarily. Yet whatever objections arose they were evidently likewise quashed by Isabel, who was going about the project with unyielding determination. 

Lady Hamilton, meanwhile, was furiously trying to extract as much information about the whole scheme as possible from Toby before he left for Scotland. Toby, as a consequence, was furiously trying to avoid _her_.

Despite a delay of several weeks between Isabel’s proposing the trip and the day Toby and Adil set off, the evening of their departure from London on the sleeper to Glasgow was still a fairly chaotic blur of packing and goodbyes. 

Robbie had very kindly prepared and packed enough food for them for the journey, and Isabel had insisted on organising all of their travel personally. 

Toby felt like they were both about to be swept out of The Halcyon on a wave of other people’s efficiency.

“It’s a lovely part of the world you’ll be visiting, Mr Hamilton,” Robbie had reminisced in his Scottish brogue as he bid them farewell in the kitchen, “and at its most beautiful at this time of year, all the browns and golds and crisp autumn days. I do hope you find it restoring.”

“Thank you, I’m very sure I will. And thank you very much for taking the time to do this,” he said, gesturing at Robbie’s work, “it was unexpected and is most appreciated.”

“A pleasure. Very important to eat well. That and the good old Loch Lomond air and you’ll be yourself in no time . . .”

Toby smiled at Robbie’s rallying reassurances. He had never thought of himself as all that well-regarded until word got around that he had been ill. Since the night of what had come to be known, somewhat euphemistically, as his ‘odd turn’ in the bar, he hadn’t been able to go anywhere in the hotel without someone - staff or guest -stopping him to ask how he was feeling. It had been a touching surprise.

“Ready, Mr Hamilton?” Adil had appeared behind him as he finished thanking Robbie and the other staff who were whipping around in a show of competence that appeared almost choreographed to see them off properly.

“Yes, Adil, I suppose we _should_ be heading off. I’ll just say goodbye to Mother,” he said with barely concealed dread. He turned and risked a small smile at Adil, who offered a comforting nod back. 

Toby had seen Adil out of his uniform before, of course - both dressed in regular clothes and in various states of tantalising undress. But seeing him standing in front of him now, smartly dressed in a day suit and not in his uniform, knowing they would be leaving the hotel together, openly and not by stealth, felt like an escape, like stepping willingly, ecstatically, off a precipice into the unknown. 

He’d visited Adil in his flat a few times, so it wasn’t as if their entire relationship had been conducted under the ever-watchful eye of The Halcyon. But their circumstances meant that it sometimes felt like it _had_ been; as if walking out of the hotel together was tantamount to flying headlong over the edge of the world they knew. The pessimist in Toby was a little afraid that they’d leave the building and it would turn out there was nothing outside - just emptiness, never-ending desert or tundra - and that they would be trapped forever within these walls, condemned to perpetual, claustrophobic secrecy.

He made his way into the front bar to where Lady Hamilton was sitting, perusing the newspaper - something she did since the War had begun, morsels of specifics about the efforts of the Air Force sometimes to be found presented proudly amongst the pages of propaganda and politics. 

“I’m still not sure Isabel Musgrove should be taking advantage of your good nature like this when you’re unwell, Toby,” she said without preamble as he came to sit beside her.

“Mother, I have explained this several times. It’s a chance for Isabel to have some business attended to and for me to get some rest. It’s hardly as though she’s asking me for something for nothing. She’s certainly asking me for nothing I’m not more than happy to give . . .”

“I dare say, but _really_ , Toby. We can well afford to send you to recuperate somewhere without having to do favours for people. And at least then the hotel wouldn’t have to loan out serving staff to do for you . . .”

“Mother, Isabel is a kind and decent woman. If I am in a position to help her then I want to. The need for Ad- for _Mr Joshi -_ has been explained, and the hotel more than adequately compensated.” He dragged in a deep breath before standing and sighing, exasperated. “But since we seem to be going around in circles I’ll be off; I only came to say goodbye.”

“I’ll miss you,” she pouted, rising so that they were face-to-face.

“I'll be gone three weeks. It isn’t forever. And there _are_ telephones in Scotland.” Toby felt guilt dousing his excitement as her eyes filled with tears. “You’ll hardly be alone, Mother.”

“I think sometimes you and your brother fail to see how alone I really am,” she sniffed, kissing his cheek dismissively before disappearing into the lobby.

Toby knew he should be trying to be more patient with his mother. But something had shifted since he’d confessed the true depth of his feelings to Adil; he had noticed himself becoming less tolerant of her loftiness and judgmental nature. He loved his mother very much and yet he found it increasingly difficult to dredge up the forbearance required to be in her company.

He smiled with warm recognition when he saw Emma coming towards him.

“I thought I should wait until you’d said goodbye to your mother,” she said with a knowing smile.

“I know she’s the hardest person in the world to console, but I would be forever in your debt if you’d keep an eye on her, nonetheless. Get in touch if you think both me and Freddie being away is getting too much for her, will you? Please?”

“It won’t. But yes, of course I will. Hopefully Freddie will be back by the time you return to us anyway,” she said wistfully, her eyes sparkling.

“Am I selfish for leaving, Emma?” Toby asked, suddenly convinced that she was the only person likely to give him an honest answer to such a question. 

“Toby, _no_. You cannot always be your mother’s best friend. And Freddie would be heartbroken if he thought you’d stayed frozen here for his sake. Don’t martyr yourself for no reason,” she took his hands in hers, and in a flash Toby felt ten years old again. “Go, do what you need to, and come back to us safe.”

He squeezed her fingers gently. “Goodbye, Emma. Lady Isabel has all of the details so mother or Freddie or you or anyone can contact me if I’m needed. And I really am sorry to be depriving you of your best barman,” he smiled, trying not to look too mischievous.

“I couldn’t be happier for Adil. He’s thrilled to be going and I don’t blame him. He'll be back with us soon enough. And now, you _both_ need to leave . . .”

“Yes,” Toby agreed, mustering himself. “I just need to say one more goodbye and then we’ll be off,” he murmured, scanning the room for sight of Isabel.

“I caught you before you left, oh good!” Isabel crooned from behind him.

“I’ll leave you to it,” said Emma conspiratorially, walking away.

Toby turned around to face Isabel. “Oh, you _know_ we wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye,” he soothed.

“Well, I’ve already said my goodbyes to Adil. He has all of the information you both need. I want you to treat the place as your own, Toby. _Both_ of you,” she added quietly. “You can always get in touch if you’re in any doubt about anything when you get there. I hope . . . Toby, I hope you’ll understand why I had to ask you and Adil to do this. I hope you’ll see why. Why it had to be you . . .”

She planted a hasty kiss on Toby’s cheek before striding away, leaving him standing in the bar, utterly perplexed.

                                                                                                                   - - - - - - -

“I’m not sure why, exactly, but I had expected more . . . disarray,” said Toby with curious hesitation. “It’s really lovely. Organised and idyllic and tidy and . . .”

“It’s perfect,” said Adil, his tone wonderstruck. “Isabel arranged for a lady from the village to come in and make the place ready before we got here. She’s got her own business to run, though, a guest house in the town. It’s doubling as all kinds of things given the War, of course, so from now on we’re going it alone.”

The journey on the sleeper had been as smooth and uneventful as they could have expected, but neither of them were relaxed enough to get much rest. When they arrived into Glasgow that morning, a driver by the name of William had been waiting for them as arranged, to take them to Cadha Cottage. He had proved a pleasant man of few words which, after a sleepless night of travel, suited them both fine. When they had finally arrived, William had brought their luggage in, bid them a curt but polite farewell, and they had been relieved to get indoors, locking the door behind them, free to get a feel for the place that would be home for the next three weeks.

It amused Toby that Cadha was what passed for a ‘cottage’ in Isabel’s book. In reality it was a good-sized thatched-roof house over two floors high on a wooded hillside overlooking Loch Lomond, a mile or so out of a small village called Balmaha. The very least that could be said for it was that it was homely rather than palatial.

Despite the cottage being nestled in a clearing in a wood, the Loch was still well visible from the upper floor where the two large en-suite bedrooms were laid out. The view of the approach up the hill was clear, and it was isolated enough for privacy while at the same time being a manageable walk to the town; for a person of reasonable fitness, at least. Toby could see both why Isabel had been reluctant to leave it when the time came, but also some of the reasons she may have felt she had to if her health was failing.

Looking out of one of the bedroom windows onto a slightly grey but by no means dismal Loch Lomond autumn morning, he could imagine hunkering down, contained by these sturdy old walls and low ceilings, warmed by the open fire, just keeping Adil all to himself until the world ended. 

The thought was both buoyant and bittersweet.

They walked around the cottage separately, calling to each other from the various rooms before meeting in the one downstairs which evidently served as a sitting room, with armchairs and couch and the modest open fire with a plush rug in front of it. _Perfect place for a loyal, lazy dog to stretch out at the end of a long day_ , Toby mused with a smile. 

The whole place was both very Isabel and also not at all indicative of her status - it felt loved and lived in, decorated for comfort and with a certain flair of cosy eccentricity. 

“I wonder that Isabel’s not under more pressure to free this place up for the War,” pondered Toby.

“I pity the man who gets the job of putting her under pressure to do _anything_ she doesn’t want to,” Adil chuckled. “Why don’t you pour yourself a whisky and I’ll run you a bath? You’ll want to wash off the train journey,” he said, removing Toby’s blazer and stroking lovingly at the back of his neck before walking across the room to throw his own jacket over the back of one of the armchairs.

“So will you,” purred Toby, turning to face him, fingering at his collar, smiling and nibbling at his bottom lip suggestively.

“Well I _am_ here to take care of you . . . _Mr Hamilton_ ,” Adil answered, mirroring Toby’s feral grin, walking towards him seductively slowly, loosening his own tie, “entirely at your disposal. So tell me . . .” he stopped to yank the piece of fabric from his neck, throwing it aside before staring Toby down, their noses practically touching “. . . what can I do for you?”

“Run that bath. Get into it. I’ll join you,” Toby growled, running his fingertips down Adil’s spine.

“Toby Hamilton, what a scandalous suggestion!” Adil gasped with mock outrage.

“Not at all. It’s part of the war effort. We’re conserving water,” said Toby, smirking.

“Oh, I love you,” Adil giggled.

“I love you,” Toby whispered, his expression intense, folding Adil into his arms before pulling him down onto the couch with a deep, dirty laugh.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been far too long coming - I'm so sorry! Fair warning for fluff and smut.
> 
> I still don't know for sure how many chapters this will eventually be, but I can say that there are a few to come . . .

Adil woke slowly, gradually coming round to the sound of birdsong and the smell of crisp, clean linen and fresh early morning air and of Toby, still asleep and breathing gently next to him.

They had made it to the bath - eventually - a long soak followed by a serene afternoon in the plush comfort of one of Cadha’s two huge four-posters. 

Adil had made sure to leave his luggage in one of the bedrooms and Toby’s in the other. The whole world couldn’t have stopped them sleeping alongside each other while they were there alone, but it still felt safer to make a show of separate rooms. Isabel seemed to think they’d be safe enough here, and he had no reason to doubt it. But still, he knew it wouldn’t do to take unnecessary risks, and if anyone _did_ come to call for some reason and formed the impression they were sharing a room, well, there’d be no explaining _that_ away. 

Adil had left Toby’s side just long enough to pad half-dressed into the kitchen to prepare a meal for them in the middle of the afternoon, but the long hours of their first day at the cottage had mainly been marked out in sex and kissing and talking, before they had finally drifted together into a deep sleep later in the evening.

Absent-mindedly absorbing the peaceful morning, Adil wondered if he would _always_ wake before Toby, even when he had nothing specific to wake for. It was how it always seemed to work out; how watching Toby sleep had become one of his favourite ways to while away time. Not that they ever seemed to have _enough_ time. Not usually, anyway. It felt like there was never quite enough time for each other.

And so, as always, he turned now to steal a few moments just to look at Toby before he woke. 

He loved the way Toby’s hair stuck up in a hundred different directions; the way he reached out to Adil even in sleep. Adil wondered whether Toby still did that even when he wasn’t there - and he wondered whether _hoping_ Toby missed him when he reached out only to find him gone made him a terrible person. 

Overwhelmed with affection, Adil couldn’t resist pressing his finger tenderly to that perfect, plump bottom lip.

“Time is it?” Toby grouched, stirring at the contact.

“It’s 8am,” Adil purred, kissing Toby’s chest, right over his heart. “We’re laying in bed, utterly naked, in broad daylight. No War Office, no shifts at the bar, no sneaking around in the early hours so the staff or the guests won’t see us. How do you feel?”

“Sinful . . . flagrant . . . wanton . . .” Toby yawned, stretching his arms above his head, the sheets draped around his waist riding down, very nearly revealing the impressive erection tenting them. Adil swallowed thickly, not quite sure whether Toby was deliberately teasing him or just oblivious to the tantalising display he was putting on. 

He was still a little pale, just a trace of having been ill, but the flush of his cheeks and the sparkle in his eyes when he opened them and flashed a suggestive grin had returned full force. He looked so alive, and it made Adil’s chest feel like it was going to burst.

 _Teasing_ , he thought with a thrill. _Definitely teasing._

“You already look so much better. You’ve got your colour back,” Adil kissed the rosy spots on Toby’s cheekbones, moving down to skim gentle bites over his shoulders and collarbone.

“It’s you, you’re making me blush,” Toby whined, cupping Adil’s buttocks firmly, pulling him so that he lay on top of him and rubbing their noses together sweetly.

“Ah, yes. It must be because you’re so _shy_ . . .” Adil mocked, hissing with pleasure as he ground his own hardness down against Toby’s. “Although, you really don’t _feel_ very shy, not right now . . .”

He looked down at Toby with adoration, his wild dark hair fanned out against the perfect white of the pillow, Adil pinning his wrists above his head. “Is this what you want, Toby?” he asked, his voice a growl as he drew close to press his lips to Toby’s earlobe. “Am _I_ what you want? Tell me, what do you want?”

His spine tingled as Toby turned his head ever-so-slightly to whisper back, “I want you . . . to _fuck_ me. Just like this. On top of me, so I can _watch_ you. I want you to take what you want from me.”

Toby watched hungrily as Adil began to prepare himself, opening himself with his fingers, brazen and bold, knowing the way it made Toby feel, the way it made his heart pound and his cock twitch with an impatience he couldn’t hide. Toby trembled beneath him, licking his lips, his breathing already ragged as Adil slowly lowered himself to take him in. 

“Christ . . .” Toby muttered, screwing his eyes closed and throwing his head back.

Adil reached down, lifting Toby’s chin firmly with his thumb. “You wanted to watch. So _watch_.”

“Oh, _God_ ,” groaned Toby, taking the same thumb into his mouth and sucking it wetly. 

Adil was used to feeling Toby inside him, to the sublime stretch and burn, but they’d never done it like _this_ ; him straddling Toby, Toby pinned down by Adil, by his weight and his desire and his control. It was fuller and deeper and so much more intense than anything that had happened before.

Toby grasped Adil’s hips, keening with excitement when Adil grabbed his wrists and pinned them back to the pillow over his head, where they had been just a moment before. 

“Jesus, Adil . . .” he chuckled, his face all awe and anticipation. 

Adil leaned his body forward to whisper again into Toby’s ear. “Is that what you want, my love? For me to take you like this?”

He heard Toby breathe brokenly. “Harder, Adil,” he commanded, husky and desperate. “Hold me harder.”

“God Toby, you’re perfect.” Adil tightened his grip, earning a whimper of pleasure from Toby. “You know I’ll give you anything. Anything you want.” 

Adil picked up the pace, using the strength of his arms to pin Toby down and the power in his thighs to move himself slowly and deeply, feeling Toby filling him again and again. 

Within minutes Toby was a swearing, writhing mess beneath him, and when he cried out as his body stiffened and he came inside him, Adil just threw back his head, letting the sound and the sensation of his lover’s orgasm wash over him, revelling in the fact that, for once in their lives, they didn’t have to make an effort to be quiet or hold back.

Adil released Toby’s wrists, entwining their fingers with one of his hands, and stroking himself with the other until he too reached his peak with a throaty moan. 

He rolled off Toby with a satisfied grunt, reaching for his wrists again, gentle this time, examining them carefully. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, panicking when he saw that the skin was ringed pink where he had been holding him.

“Please . . . _please_ don’t worry,” panted Toby, laughing, “that was absolutely . . . fantastic . . . just . . . God, fantastic. You are . . . an angel.” Toby turned his head to look at Adil beside him. “What? You’re staring at me, what is it?”

“I can’t imagine how anyone in the world could look at you and not fall instantly under your spell. You really are _that_ beautiful. And the more I find out about you, the more beautiful you become. And now you’re blushing again. You always blush when I tell you how lovely you are.” Adil kissed the red circles around Toby’s wrists. The skin was flushed but he was relieved to see that it didn’t look like it would bruise.

“I still can’t believe you’re real. I look at you sometimes and I . . . I just can’t believe I really get to have you. You’re like a dream,” Toby lowered his eyes shyly as he spoke.

Adil touched Toby’s chin, snatching his gaze again. “I thought I’d never get to have this with you. Just laying in bed. Being with you. Nothing to worry about, nothing to avoid or to hide. Now we’re here and it’s perfect, isn’t it? You do know that I love you? You do always remember that’s how I feel?”

Toby just nodded, nestling into the crook of Adil’s neck. 

Adil knew they were thinking the same thing - that three weeks wasn’t the forever they both wished for. 

Adil rallied himself, trying to shake off the thought of their inevitable return to London. “We really should get started on Isabel’s papers today. She gave me this before we left.”

He reached to the bedside table, passing the envelope that Isabel had given him to Toby, who opened it and turned it out. A key fell onto the bed between them. Toby unfolded the letter that had been written on headed notepaper from The Halcyon and began to read:

_Dearest Toby, Dearest Adil,_

_By the time you read this I trust you will have arrived safely at Cadha. I hope you are obeying my instructions to enjoy all of the many charms it has to offer._

Toby twinkled his cheekiest grin at Adil, who snorted inelegantly, shaking his head. He knew Isabel was a woman of the world, but the idea that she was actually _urging_ them to use her Scottish retreat as their love nest still made him feel . . . odd. 

Toby continued:

_When the time comes to go through the matters I’ve asked you to take care of, you will find everything of importance in the large oak cupboard in the study downstairs. There are several boxes containing old bills and documents of varying age and importance. Toby, I know you will know what needs to be returned to me at this time and what can remain._

_You will also find a wooden chest, locked, patterned with flowers. It is in this chest that the more personal items are kept. I would like you to see them. There is no sorting out to be done, as you will see. They are all important to me, all to be retained and returned to me. But I would like you to see them while you are there. This is important to me. The enclosed key opens the chest._

_You know, of course, how to contact me if you feel you need to. I hope very much that, having seen the contents of the chest, you agree with me that I did right to show them to you. I hope you will understand that these are things that are important. Things, and people, that should be remembered and not forgotten, and that are always on my mind as I look to my own future, such as it is._

_If I am wrong, then I can only hope that you will forgive my error, and at least understand my reasons for making it._

_Yours with affection as ever_

_Isabel_

Toby sighed deeply. “I suddenly feel extremely apprehensive . . . _I want to stay here_. I want to stay right here and I want you to stay completely naked here with me forever. Is that so much to ask?”

Adil smirked. “We will have to get up and get dressed at _some_ point, Toby. We need to clean up. And eat. And deal with whatever _this_ means . . .” He took the letter from Toby and studied it as he spoke. “Just remember, there’ll be no more sex if you starve to death.”

“Good God, I hate it when you’re right,” Toby groaned as he got up and walked languidly to the foot of the bed, towards the window.

Adil lay there, watching as Toby stood looking out into the distance, the white light of the morning illuminating his slender frame, making his alabaster skin glow. Toby tilted his head back and groaned contentedly as the heat of the sunlight through the glass touched his face, and Adil felt tears sting his eyes as he realised that there wasn’t a word to describe what he was watching. It was more than a masterpiece. The existence of Toby’s body felt like having a part of his _own_ body outside of himself. When they made love Adil felt like he couldn’t get close enough. They could talk about fucking in the heat of the moment, but he felt like it would always be lovemaking, however and wherever they did it. By now he didn’t need reminding that he was in love, but times like this just made him sure that this was it - his completion. He knew he couldn’t want, couldn’t imagine, anything better than this.

“Bath?” Toby asked, his eyebrows lifting mischievously, pulling Adil out of his daydream.

“ _You_ first, _then_ me,” Adil answered, his voice stern.

“Oh, _Adil_ . . .” wheedled Toby.

“Toby!”

Toby scowled. “Yes, fine, I know - if we go together we won’t get a thing done for the _second_ day in a row . . .”

“You know I won’t be able to keep my hands off you. It’s too tempting . . .”

Toby turned and winked over his shoulder as he sloped towards the bathroom.

Adil went back to reading the letter for a moment, before groaning helplessly and leaping off the bed to follow him.

\- - - - - - - - - - -

When they were both washed and dressed they made their way to the study downstairs. 

They had peered in briefly when they arrived, but now they were paying attention they were able to appraise it properly in a way they hadn’t before. 

Adil looked around appreciatively, smiling with fondness when his eyes landed on Toby, who looked just like a child in a toyshop. Adil wasn’t surprised - the walls were bookshelves from floor to ceiling, a floor-length window letting in glorious natural light. He could easily picture Toby sitting studiously at the heavy wooden desk at the centre of the room, hour after hour, in his element, books and papers spread haphazardly around him. This room could have been _made_ for Toby.

The cupboard they needed was easy to spot; it was the only part of the walls that wasn’t a stuffed bookshelf, a window or a door. 

“Well, here goes . . .” sighed Toby as he opened it.

Sure enough, a stunningly ornate light wood chest, engraved with a floral pattern, sat on top of four or five plainer boxes inside the cupboard. 

Toby lifted the chest out, placing it on the desk delicately, as if he were afraid it could explode at any moment, the shrapnel of Isabel’s secrets bursting out and littering the room. 

He stood rigid, the key clutched tightly in his hand.

“What’s wrong?” asked Adil.

“It all feels a little like prying now. All rather . . . intimate. I can’t quite shake the feeling that I’m about to see things I shouldn’t . . .”

Adil inhaled deeply. “I know. But Isabel has asked us to do this, Toby. She needs our help. And she says there are things she wants us to see. Come on. _It’s what she asked_.”

Adil squeezed Toby’s shoulder, sharing a final look of trepidation with him as he turned the key and the chest clicked open.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been encouraging me to develop this and keep going with it, and to those of you who have resisted the urge to click 'unsubscribe' during delays etc - I love this fandom because it's full of the best kind of peeps.

The opened chest gave off a waft of aged floral sweetness. Toby got the feeling it had been locked for some time.

Compartments and nooks of different sizes and shapes were each filled with all kinds of curios and keepsakes. Piles of letters were tied together with ribbon, the odd photograph nestled amongst flowers pressed into tissue paper, single earrings, ticket stubs and postcards, a smooth, pearlescent pebble. There was even a lock of jet black hair, perched like a shiny jewel on a folded handkerchief, painstakingly embroidered with the initials _EH_.

He looked at Adil, wide-eyed. Adil looked anxious, but gave him a reassuring smile, gesturing silently to him to sit at the desk.

Toby sank into the chair. Warily, he began to lift things out of the chest. He held them in his hands, feeling them with the tips of his fingers, meticulously, hoping that they would somehow convey meaning to him through touch. He replaced each one when it yielded nothing. 

“This feels all wrong,” he said after a moment, exasperated. “Why would Isabel want us to see all of this? It feels so . . .’

“Personal,” Adil filled in heavily, peering over Toby’s shoulder.

 _There could be a whole life right here in this chest_ , Toby thought. _It means something, but what?_ He was used to working things out, to problem solving and finding answers when only parts of the information were available to him.

But that was numbers. Facts. _This_ was something entirely different.

“I need to speak to her about this,” he sighed, glancing briefly at one of the photographs he had lifted at random. “I need to know what this is, why she needs us to . . .” 

Toby’s words hung unfinished in the air, his train of thought stalling as he examined the photograph again, more closely this time. 

His heart suddenly felt like it was trying to burst out of his chest. The room seemed hot and close, and he felt weaker than he had in weeks. He tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the photograph, not wanting to admit he felt awful, and _definitely_ not wanting to alarm Adil.

Two women sat on a wooden bench, holding each other, their cheeks pressed skin to skin. One of them was instantly familiar. Tall and upright, not large, exactly, but hale and athletic - unmistakably Isabel, albeit twenty years younger. The other woman was much slimmer, pale and with black hair in the kind of short, severe bob that Toby knew had been the peak of fashion when he was a child. 

His eyes darted back to that black, glossy lock of hair that lay, silent and damning, in the chest, and back to the photograph, over and over.

He stood quickly, pacing over to the window. Yes. He’d thought he recognised it. They hadn’t dwelt on the outside of the house for long when they’d arrived yesterday; they’d been tired from their journey and keen to get settled in. But he remembered remarking on that wooden bench out front, contemplating how spectacular the view of the loch must be from that vantage point on a summer’s day.

Adil came over to stand next to him as he gazed out. He traced a finger down Toby’s spine, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’m going to make some tea,” he said, stroking his cheekbone gently before making his way to the kitchen.

Toby looked again at the photograph. It was definitely the same bench, the left ‘wing’ of Cadha, and the same window he was standing at right now, partly visible behind the two women. 

A wave of dizziness crashed over him and he swayed on his feet. He returned to the desk and sat down again, placing the photograph on the table and staring at the muddled contents of the chest. 

Flicking cursorily through the letters he saw that they were all addressed to Isabel at Cadha, all written in the same elegant hand. Noticing that one of the letters sat separate from the others, Toby swallowed down his nausea, hesitating as he opened it and read:

 

_My Iz,_

_Can I still call you ‘My Iz’? I know you aren’t mine. That I have lost you. I am still yours, even though I can understand that you may never want me. Not now. Not after the way we parted. But I am still yours in heart, even if I’m someone else’s in name._

_I have tried not to write to you. Like you asked, I have tried to give you peace. To let your wounds heal. I don’t truly believe I know why I do it now, except that I want you - no, I need you - to know that I love you. I know you won’t hear it in person, but I need you to know that it’s true. It is selfish, I suppose, but I find that I cannot bear to live in a world where you believe this may not be true._

_I find that I cannot live in a world without you._

_I love you. Please know that I love you. It is truth. It is unchangeable truth._

_Your Evie_

 

Toby folded the letter up. _Evie_. He rifled through the chest again, more frantically this time.

He lifted the lock of raven hair, the handkerchief. The monogram, _EH._ The photographs - all of them were of Isabel and this same woman. _Evie_. 

Toby looked at her - _really_ looked at her. Even though he had no firm proof yet, only scant pieces of evidence to support his hypothesis, he knew it would be here in this chest. He _knew_ it. As if Isabel and Evie were here in the room with him, telling him it was so, he _knew_ that when he’d opened every letter, held every memento, what he suspected now would turn out to be true. It was waiting to be unearthed. It was buried in this box. 

A dreamlike, blurry memory pressed at the back of his mind. He and Freddie, playing together in a huge room, on an enormous, tasseled Turkish rug that seems to have no end. Their father’s bellowing rage echoing from an adjoining room, followed by a woman’s plaintive cries. A door slamming. A tall, thin, pale, black-haired woman rushing in, standing over them and looking down, smiling sadly, even as her strikingly beautiful face is smeared with tears, her eyes ringed with red. Their mother crying, trying to hold the woman in her arms, calling to her as she flees through the door. The name . . . the name playing, dancing at the edges of the picture . . . 

He remembered Isabel’s last words to him, before they left London; _“I hope you’ll see why. Why it had to be you.”_

There was a reason it was _him_. Isabel had wanted _him_ to look. Wanted _him_ to see.

Toby felt the last of the air leave the room, heard the thumping of his heartbeat in his ears. He was vaguely aware of Adil coming back through the door, the clatter of a tea tray as it was brought down hastily onto the desk in alarm. But Adil’s voice, calling his name, was far away, muffled, as if they were submerged. Toby felt exactly like he had that night in the Halcyon bar; woozy, numb, as though he were being dragged irresistibly into unconsciousness. He felt his cheek come to rest against the cool wooden surface in front of him, the touch of the warm flesh of Adil’s palm against the other cheek a moment later.

Adil’s voice was getting closer now; closer, and closer, then right there next to him. 

“Toby! What’s wrong? Christ, Toby.”

“I’m OK, just a bit hot, I must have stood up too quickly . . .” Toby heard himself mumble thickly, still feeling outside of his own body, distant and detached. 

The dizziness gradually subsided and Toby sat upright, slowly, concentrating on the feeling of his lips and tongue and throat, wondering if he could shape more words, words enough to explain, at least.

Adil pressed a hand to his forehead, unbuttoning his shirt in an attempt to cool him down.

Toby surrendered to his care, staring down as the two women smiled up at him from the photograph, the pieces of his memory beginning to knit with the pieces from the chest into a recollection; something that had been locked in the past, a foggy view coming into focus.

“Adil, I . . . I think I know who this is. _EH_. Evie. Eve Hamilton. Adil, this woman, she’s my aunt.”


End file.
